#hes a mystic. i made him literally the month before they stopped working on mystics | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

geeky-politics-46 · 2 years

Text

A Natural

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Pairing: Sinister Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary: Stephen begins teaching the mystic arts to your daughter, and you both ruminate on your current pregnancy.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - pregnant sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, light dirty talk, pet names, language, creampie, sweet fluffy sex

"Patience my little sorceress. I know you can do it. It just takes time and practice. Slow down and breathe. Okay? You are already doing much better than when I tried to teach mommy."

You stuck your tongue out at your husband across the room, making your daughter lose her concentration. She erupted in giggles when Stephen copied your silly action.

You strode towards the pair of them and took a seat on the couch behind where they were practicing. So you and your belly were out of the potential line of magical fire. While daddy and daughter worked on their magic you rubbed your growing pregnant belly and wondered if this child would take more after you or Stephen.

You knew Stephen wanted them to take after you. That way each of you had a mini me. You kinda wanted another Stephen to be honest. It would be chaotic, but god it would be hysterical. As much as you two had talked about wanting one of each, a boy and a girl, you had your suspicion that Stephen was secretly rooting for another girl.

He loved having a little girl to dote on. To play princess and tea party with. To watch Disney movies over and over with. To dance with her as if he was the Disney prince. To look at him like he hung the moon. He was a big softie really, despite all outward dark scary appearances, and once you had Donna he became a complete teddy bear.

It didn't take long for you and Stephen to conceive the second time around. Within six months, probably closer to three. The universe seemingly listened loud and clear to the intention once you put it out there. The universe seemed to be doing nothing but encouraging your little family to flourish. Soon you would be far enough along that Stephen would start to be able to sense whether you were adding a boy or another little girl to that family.

You didn't think Stephen could get any happier than the day you gave birth to Donna, until the day you found out you were officially pregnant a second time. He was practically bursting at the seams when you told him you were pregnant again. He literally picked you up and spun you around. Borderline jumping for joy.

You thought back to the days after you first fell into his world. To when getting him to even say full sentences to you was a stretch. He was a completely different man now. He was still your Stephen though. The man who was so determined to protect you at all costs. Even before he knew you he made it clear he would keep you safe, and he had never once faltered in that promise.

"Well maybe I would have stuck with it if you didn't start kissing me every time I couldn't do it and got upset. That kinda reinforced my wanting to get it wrong."

Stephen came over to where you were sitting and leaned down resting his hands on the bump you were now sporting. Pressing a kiss on the bump before leaning up to press several small kisses and one deeper one on your lips. Your daughter was starting to grow tired of your constant affections for each other. If it was even possible Stephen had gotten more lovey with you since you got pregnant again.

"Well if I didn't kiss you so much we might not have our little sorceress over here and that little one too. So all in all, I think it was still a win."

"Ew, can you guys please stop kissing?! I'm trying to practice magic with daddy."

In addition to starting the basics of regular schooling. Things like starting to read and write. Stephen had also decided that your barely past toddler age daughter was also going to start learning the basics of the mystic arts. Something that despite your apparent latent magical abilities, abilities that managed to rebirth bits and pieces of your universe, you had crashed and burned at. You never got beyond a few small sparks.

Stephen turned back to Donna but left both hands on your belly. You knew he was gonna try to bargain his way into a few more kisses. You could tell it was one of those days he would be all over you. After putting Donna to bed you were sure that he would want some frisky time. The fact that you were starting to show drove him absolutely bananas. Seeing your belly full with his baby was an aphrodisiac like nothing else for him. He practically drooled when he saw you naked. You kinda loved it. It made you like your changing body instead of worrying about it.

"I want two more good kisses from mama and I'll give you an extra 5 minutes of magic practice. Okay?"

"Just two?" You questioned, already not believing him.

"For now."

He quirked his eyebrows at you with a devilish look in his eyes before he moved in to place his last two kisses on your lips. The first one was just a little deeper and longer than it needed to be. The second one ending with a little lick along your bottom lip, clearly indicating that he had plans for you later. You gave him a little wink that you knew your daughter wouldn't catch, letting him know you were game for whatever he intended for the two of you later.

"Alright teacher, don't keep your star student waiting. The flunkie will just sit here and watch. Maybe this one will learn through osmosis."

You patted your belly and that made his eyes light up a little extra. He hadn't thought about making sure your unborn baby was exposed to his magic lessons too! It made sense. It was common for people to expose their unborn children to classical music in utero. Why not magic? He was gonna have to make sure you were around for more of these magic lessons. Just in case.

He turned his attention back to Donna and moved behind her, helping to position her hands. He had crafted a small sling ring for her that was frankly the cutest thing you had ever seen. They were both taking this very seriously, even if she probably wouldn't be capable of much magic for a couple more years.

"You've been hearing and seeing these spells since you were months old. I know you know them. Deep breath, and focus."

He took a deep breath with her and then let go of her shoulders to let her do the hand motions on her own. You watched in surprise when after a few more attempts you saw the first few orange gold sparks appear from her small fingers. Your hands flew up to cover your mouth in shock. Stephen had trouble containing his giddiness. He was trying so hard to stay in teacher mode and not go full proud parent.

It didn't stop Donna from jumping up and down, bouncing in a circle excitedly. It appeared that her father was right. She was going to be a natural sorceress.

--------------------------------

Your husband entered the room and quickly wrapped his arms around you from behind. Rubbing your baby bump with both hands and burrowing his face into your neck. Purring as he held you close. This time, knowing you were pregnant from the very start, he was making sure to note all the small little things that changed about you as well as the big things. For example, your scent had changed. It was something he noticed a few weeks after you took the test that came back positive. You started to smell sweeter and warmer. A little bit more musky. Normally your scent had a bit of crispness to it, almost a citrus bite. Now it was like that citrus had ripened to it's peak.

He was also paying very close attention to every tiny bit your body grew. He had been the one to notice the first time your bump had become visible, even before you caught it. He didn't let you sleep at all that night. He just couldn't keep his hands off of you for longer than 10 mins at a time. You really didn't think you would have been so happy to see your body change so drastically if you didn't have a partner who embraced it so much.

He had started leaving small kisses along your skin and it wasn't long before they turned from sweet pecks to heated love nips. His favorite time of the day was when he got to steal a few moments alone with you and he always tried to make the most of them. He had just put Donna to bed and now all his attention could be lavished onto you. He loved being a father, but you were the thing that his world revolved around. The true center of his universe.

You couldn't help but crane your neck and let your head tilt to the side a little to give your husband better access to the smooth warm skin he was seeking. He quickly took advantage of it and let his teeth nip at a spot just below your jaw prompting you to inhale sharply through your nose. He licked at the spot tenderly to soothe it before taking it in his teeth again. Just to make sure. Even if he couldn't leave marks all over your neck like he used to, unless he wanted your daughter asking all sorts of questions, he still liked to leave one little one here or there.

Even if you were currently bearing the most obvious and beautiful mark he could ever leave on you. Your growing pregnant belly. Slowly becoming more visible day by day. Until you could hold your new little baby in your arms and he could drown you both, and Donna, in even more love than he thought his heart could give. His little family. After that he wanted to mark you that way all over again. Keep adding to your family until the Sanctum ran out of rooms.

"Do you know how much I love you my darling wife? How much I adore and worship you? How I would move heaven and Earth and the entire multiverse for you?"

"You don't have to lay it on quite so thick Stephen. I thought from earlier you already knew you were gonna get lucky tonight."

"Doesn't matter. I just wanted to tell you how much I love you. Every little thing about you. How grateful I am that you came into my life. Even how utterly terrible you are at the mystic arts. Everything. Because you are the reason for our magical little girl, and this little magic being. The fact that I get to make love to you is just the icing on the cake. Even if you never let me fuck you again I would still worship at your feet."

"Well I think we both know I'm never going to stop letting you fuck me Stephen Strange, and hey not everybody can be a natural wizard like you. You are just lucky our daughter takes after her incredibly gifted and amazing father.”

His eyes narrowed at you through the mirror when you called him a wizard. You knew the title drove him up the wall when you did that, which made it one of the funnest things to do. It was one of the ways you liked to poke and tease him about the most. You were trying to hold back a grin when he put on his best scary and sinister face. A look that had no doubt sent chills through many, but for you it just made the butterflies he gave you start to flit through your stomach faster.

“You are lucky you are the wife and mother of two, soon to be three, powerful sorcerers, love. Otherwise calling me a wizard would have dire consequences.”

Without any warning he scooped you up and carried you over to the bed. Letting you fall and bounce somewhat unceremoniously upon landing on the soft mattress, amid the fluffy blankets and covers. He grabbed your ankle and yanked you over to the side of the bed. You were too busy trying to cover your mouth to keep your yelps and laughter down to a volume Donna wouldn't hear to do much but wiggle in fake protest. Playfully swatting at his chest as he threw himself on top of you, making sure to be mindful of your belly, and descended on you smothering you in kisses.

After a few sloppy excited kisses on both of your cheeks your lips finally met. The kiss was sweet and playful but still full of passion and desire. The feel of one of Stephen's hands coming to brush against your cheek making you press farther into his touch. His lips curled into a smile against yours as he continued his kisses. He loved feeling how you responded to his touch. You had never shied away from him.

After a few more moments you were growing impatient with the slow lazy tempo Stephen had set. Your pregnancy hormones made your libido stronger, and the two of you had enough trouble getting enough of each other even before. To try and communicate your need for more you nipped at his bottom lip and arched your back to press your breasts tighter against his chest. You craved the feeling of his body on yours. Your breath getting quicker.

He chuckled teasingly as you whined when he pulled away. He loved knowing that you were just as needy for him as he always was for you. Especially since now that you were showing he knew he had been near insatiable. He always worried about whether you were just trying to appease him. He knew you loved him, but his mind always liked to try and play tricks on him. Perhaps it was a lingering effect of the Darkhold, but he always worried in the back of his mind that he would never be worthy of the life you had given him. Feeling your body respond to him, your love and want for him, soothed those fears.

"Seems like someone is feeling a little needy. What got you riled up? Hmm?"

"You know I love watching you do magic. Watching your hands and fingers, seeing you so confident. Then you come in here and get all lovey. You can't be surprised at what you do to me Stephen."

"Well, an incredibly sexy, beautiful, amazing woman did tell me I was a natural with magic. Of course she did also call me a wizard, knowing full well the correct term is sorcerer. Good thing I'm crazy about her."

You gazed into Stephen's sparkling blue eyes as he smiled down at you. His body had settled on the bed beside you, staying pressed tight to you. The hand that wasn't at your face running up and down your side. Each pass letting the night shirt you were wearing creep higher up the side of your hip. His fingertips now making contact with the soft warm skin he loved so much.

"Good thing indeed, because she is crazy about you."

His lips lowered to yours again in a loving caress. Stopping in between kisses to nuzzle his face against yours. His heart fluttering every time his facial hair tickled you and made you giggle. He let himself melt into your kiss and let his body mold to yours, pulling your leg up to wrap around his hip when both your arms looped around his neck. Soft little moans starting to sneak past both of your lips as you drank each other in. Each noise spurring the other on, wanting to pull more from the other.

Eventually your hands skimmed along the neck of his tunic and robes, starting to pull them loose from his body. Another whine of protest coming from you when he pulled away from your mouth to rid himself of his boots and the top half of his robes. Your pout disappeared as the smooth pale expanse of his chest came into clear view. The sinew of lean muscle on his back was visible as he turned to throw his clothes to the side. You couldn't take your eyes off of his as you watched him undress. Unable to find the desire to strip yourself when you could just watch him. He was beautiful. Everything about him was beautiful.

You felt your cheeks flush as he turned and looked at you while moving to start removing his pants. His gaze darkening when he saw you sheepishly try to hide the hormone driven blush on your cheeks. He knew what he was doing to you and he was loving every second of it. After getting the button and zipper of his pants undone he crawled back on top of you, spreading your legs so he could settle his weight between them and kissed you with a renewed hunger. Nipping at your lips when he felt your arms loop around his waist and over his low back. Your palms pressing into him as you let your hands slide under the fabric of his pants and grab at his ass.

The feel of his skin through the fabric of his boxers quickly stopped being enough for you. So just as quickly as you had grabbed a hold of his ass you let go, only to swiftly slide them past the elastic of his underwear to once again dig your nails into his strong backside. Both layers of fabric starting to slide down more the tighter you cling to him. The elastic band now pressing against the base of his quickly hardening cock making him thrust forward against you. A groan coming from both of you at the friction he created.

You needed to feel all of him. At times his touch felt like a drug. One hit to your system only made you crave more. So you didn't have to let go of him with your hands, you started trying to push his pants and boxers down with your feet. After a little bit of struggling you succeeded in shoving both layers down to his knees. The feel of his cock being freed making him gasp against your neck in between kisses.

Stephen pulled away and rolled beside you on the bed to finish getting his pants off, leaving him completely naked. You gazed at his nude form and practically purred at how sexy he was. How sexy your naked husband, the father of your babies was. You started rubbing at your belly as you got up on your knees, thinking about the fact that he put that baby there. The way he looked at you made you feel so sexy and wanted. You could feel his eyes on you as you pulled your night shirt over your head and threw it to the side. Your breasts and belly now on full display, leaving you in just your panties.

As you took your top off Stephen couldn't help but start to stroke himself a few times. He wanted you, he needed you. He beckoned you to come crawl on his lap before you could do anything else. Tonight he wanted to watch as you rode him.

As you crawled over and got on top of him, Stephen made a small wave of his hand and your panties magically disappeared.

"That's cheating you know."

A shit eating grin appeared on his face. He started running his hands up your legs, from your knees to your hips. Then letting them cradle your belly before moving up to cup your breasts, letting his thumbs strum over your nipples.

"Oh but I thought you liked watching me use magic. Watching my hands and fingers. Although there are much better things I can be doing with them."

He let his fingers curl around your ribs and urged you to lean forward, lowering your chest so your breasts were right in his face. After a quick nuzzle in between them he took one nipple in his mouth. His tongue circled it until he felt it stiffen before licking and sucking on it. Then he repeated the actions on your other breast. After he finished lavishing your breasts with attention he moved back up your neck to your lips. Kissing you deeply and letting his tongue lick over yours adding to the heat and tension.

"Ride me baby. Wanna watch you ride my cock. Use me to make yourself feel good darling."

He moved one hand down between your bodies as you lifted your hips to position the tip of his cock against your entrance. You immediately started sliding down on him. Moaning when you felt your hole starting to stretch around him. Taking him in a little bit before pulling back up and pushing down again and going a little bit farther. Working to pull every ounce of pleasure from that first delicious penetration. From that first delicious stretch that made you feel so full. Once you had bottomed out and had taken all of his cock inside you, you stopped your motions. Letting both of you bask in the feeling.

Stephen brought his hands to your hips and started urging you to roll your hips forward to grind your pelvic bone against his, aiming to start stimulating your clit. You happily obliged. You loved that he tried to put your pleasure first most of the time, even when he was feeling greedy. He got off on seeing you shaking and moaning his name. So you let him start to grind your hips against him, bringing your hands to the sides of his head and leaning down to kiss him.

Once you could tell you were getting closer to orgasm and felt the ball of heat growing in your low belly you urged his hands down to your thighs letting you sit up straight. Placing your hands over his you started to lift your body up and down on his cock. Moving teasingly slowly at first so you could feel each vein on his cock as you moved. Carefully starting to build your speed and force as you started to bounce faster. Pulling yourself up higher and moving your hands to his thighs, leaning back to make sure Stephen got a view of his cock sliding in and out of you. Making sure he could see the way your slick glistened on his skin, the way you had drenched his cock.

He was hypnotized as he watched you. You looked like a goddess in the flesh. His very own goddess carrying his child. Seeing your growing belly as you rode him made his head spin. Every bounce of your body had him teetering on the edge of his control. He could feel his balls pulling closer to his body and knew he wasn't going to last much longer, but he had to get you there first. He had to. This was non-negotiable in his mind.

Pulling one hand free from your grasp he licked his thumb and quickly brought it back down to start stroking your clit. His initial touch of the sensitive spot making your mouth fall open and your eyes fall shut. He grinned to himself as he started circling and stroking the nerve filled bundle, listening for just the right noise that meant he found that perfect spot on your clit. While he did he repositioned himself with his feet flat on the bed, starting to thrust his hips up gently to meet yours. When you started whimpering and your bounces on him started losing their rhythm he started urging you on with sweet praises.

"That's it, love. I love watching you fall apart for me. Love feeling your pussy squeeze me so tight when you cum on my cock. I will never get tired of making you cum. So beautiful and so fucking perfect. Cum for me baby, just let go. Love you so much."

When he felt your cunt start to flutter around him he took over the thrusting, but didn't stop his ministrations on your clit. You let the warm energetic pulse in the pit of your belly take over as your own movements slowed. Letting the electric wave of your orgasm sweep through your body out to your fingers and toes. Your head dropping back and a deep satisfied groan coming from your chest.

Once the feeling waned and you floated back down to reality, you smiled at the man below you. Lowering your chest down to his and running your fingers into his hair as you kissed him over and over, whispering to him in between kisses. Pressing Your hips back to meet his thrusts with a faster and harder repetition. Wanting to work him to his climax just as he worked you to yours.

"I love you too Stephen. You make me feel so good. Want to make you feel just as good. Wanna make you cum baby. Love to feel you cum in me. Fill me up Stephen. Give me everything."

His hips picked up to a pounding speed as you coaxed him on. Strained groans falling from his lips and his eyebrows furrowed. A deep growl coming from him as you felt him tip over the edge and start to fill you. Feeling his cock throb inside you over and over until you were practically leaking with his seed. For another moment he didn't let you move off of him. Wanting to stay in that moment, suspended in time, for as long as he could.

Eventually he let you move to clean yourself and him up before crawling back in bed next to him. You knew he hadn't taken his eyes off of you the entire time. He only relaxed again once you had snuggled back into his arms and he felt you relax with a deep exhale. Exchanging whispered "I love yous", before the weight of sleep took hold.

He held you tight in his arms and watched as you fell into a heavy sleep. Yeah you may have been shit at the mystic arts, but you had a magic that was all you own. A magic that Stephen wasn't sure he would ever fully understand, but he was okay with that as long as he could continue to bask in it with you.

--------------------------------

Back to Fluffy Sinister Strange Masterlist

Back to Main Masterlist

Don't forget to vote in my Kinktober 2022 survey! You can find it on my masterlist.

Stephen Strange Taglist: @starkiller-queen @glitterylokislut @verycollectivecreator @chatampr @maskmare931 @lovecleastrange @wheredafandomat @mkixx @evelynrosestuff @katefullerrr @littlepinknightmare @foofarny @stygianoir @moonroyalt @saturnsbabe69 @blaxdet @blackrose-92 @ironstrange1991 @rindulacre @nancy-thompsons @wolfatheartandsoul @dangerouslittlefairy @n0obmaster-69 @oliveoilthoughts @onebatch--twobatch @yourmajesty13 @blondekel77 @lil-sweater-slut @gwephen @taramaria @sinceimetyou @slashersrus @coeurgrenaty @cc13723things @just--a-magpie @supervengerslock @strangelockd @dont-feel-so-good-peter @kingsmanperfecthartwin @ghost-lantern @inlovewithloki16 @thefalconandthewinterwidowshield @itssmaugtheterrible @katherinemaximoff @veryfancydoilies @cute-angi @mochacake2016 @prix19 @alexfanficnook @anotheroddfish @mando-is-the-way @xourownsidee @baes-x @dreamingsmile @negar77rd @imaginesfreetotake @ppatricia34me @rougepetale @tis-vereon @divinearchangel @sherlux @hiddlechive @ginnykate @thatesqcrush @friendofplenti @yuugenmomo @holdmyowos @the-royal-petals @lokislov3 @captaincarmel164 @lucimorningst4r @mydearestalmira @petalcranberry @singhfae @emotionsareforuglypeople @trappedinlimbo15 @veryladyqueen @icytrickster17 @kentucky-criedfricken @briefhandsstudenttoad @calamityismyspecialty @sinisterstrange616

257 notes · View notes

goodfish-bowl · 2 years

Text

The Haunting of Amity Park: The Neon District

Ectoberhaunt Day 13: Abandoned

AO3 Link | Part Two

Summary: Amity Park is a literal ghost town, with it's only remaining residents being the dead, since anyone living moved away 40 years ago. No one dares wander into the city boarders since it's not only claimed to be private property, but the dangers of the dead still lurk around every corner. This, of course, does not stop Wes Weston from dragging two of his classmates, Sam Manson and Tucker Foley, with him to record and investigate the place known as the "Most Haunted Town in America".

Words: 3055

Notes: I really enjoyed writing the dynamic of Wes, Sam, and Tucker. Also, the idea of Val staying in the vicinity to continue protecting people from ghosts lead me to including her as local law enforcement. She knows Danny is still in the city, and he actually went and told her there were trespassers, which is how she knew they were there. Danny also gave out an SOS to the ghosts to avoid the teens. Box Ghost didn't get the memo and obliviously had priorities. So, I feel like its important to note, that most of the people moved away, and did not die unless I say so or its relevant.The Neon District is something I picked up from... somewhere (can't remember), but I've used it before in some of my other works. I definitely like to think of it as where most of the fights take place, making it a secondary ground zero, the first being FentonWorks itself.

@ectoberhaunt

The camera flickered to life, full battery, complete with four sections, in the corner of the screen. It was out of focus for a few moments, before focusing on a scrawny teen in the center of the camera, blurring out the bedroom scenery behind him. His red hair was a disheveled mess on his head, and he frantically waved and silently shouted at someone off camera. There's a countdown in the top left corner, but he’s still arguing.

“-promote your next protest on camera! It’s completely unrelated! No one is going to care about the faux fur industry on a ghost hunting video!” He shouted.

“Hey, Wes, Sam. It’s recording,” another male voice interjected from behind the camera.

Wes froze, and turned to face the camera, narrowing his eyes at whoever was behind the camera.

“You’re going to edit that out, right?”

“Sure.”

Wes cleared his throat and straightened his posture, swiping imaginary dust off his jersey, before getting into a good stance.

“Hello, fellow conspirators and ghost hunters-” Wes began.

“Lame!” A female voice shouted off screen. The guy behind the camera snickered.

“Shut up! We’re rolling!” Wes took a deep breath in before starting again. “Hello fellow conspirators and ghost hunters, I’m Wes Weston and today I’m joined by two… acquaintances of mine, Sam Manson, who will be our lore and mystics expert, and Tucker Foley, operating the cameras and handling the editing. We’re going to be covering our investigation of the literal ghost town, Amity Park, Illinois. For those of you who have been here a while, you know I’ve been planning this trip out for the past few months. Now, for my newer viewers, who aren’t yet familiar with Amity Park and its associated lore, I’ll leave explaining that to Sam.”

The camera panned, turning away from Wes and onto a young goth girl, dressed heavily in black and a few other colors that the quality of the footage made it hard to make out the exact shade of, besides the fact her eyes were a bright, unusual purple… Sam snorted, her boots still kicked up onto a desk of some sort, and didn’t make any movement to change her position before going into her part.

“Amity Park, for those unfamiliar, boasts the title of the ‘most haunted town in America’, and has for the past couple of decades. It has no living population, only its supposedly ghostly residents, making it a bona fide ‘ghost town’ in all meanings of the word. It was abandoned by its residents approximately 40 years ago, after a large number of incidents severely damaged the town, leading to widespread infrastructure issues, along with the danger of being caught in one of these incidents. While the incidents were never recorded, several local newspapers at the time reference ‘ghost attacks’ alongside ‘ghost hunters’ as the leading causes. And that’s just solid facts and 1st person sources.

On the more speculative side, there’s actually an agreement that ghosts were the cause. Malevolent spirits causing havoc and whatnot, although there has been no living people connected to these ghosts. There have been theories that these conflicts were actually conflicts between the ghosts themselves, with the ghost hunters acting as a third party. We have reports of a few particular ghosts, including a motorcyclist, a cafeteria worker, a warehouse worker, and a ghost that’s simply known by the name Phantom.”

“Wait, we have a name for one of them?” asked Tucker.

Sam perked up. “Yeah! This Phantom seems to be involved in a large number of the fights, and we even have several depictions of him in the newspaper. Supposedly, he’s young, wears a hazmat suit, and has bright white hair. There are numerous sightings of this ghost all over the town throughout the ‘ghost attack’ period, from start to finish.”

“Explain what caused the attacks!” Wes shouted from off camera. Sam shot him a look.

“I’m surprised you want me to change the topic off Phantom, since you seem to have a few theories on that.”

“I do! And we’ll get to that, but I need you to explain the cause of the attacks first.”

Sam let out a long sigh, “fine”. She turned back towards the camera. “Right before the start of our danger period, there were reports from the most notorious ghost hunters in town at the time, Doctor Madeline Fenton and Doctor Jack Fenton, self-proclaimed ghost experts and parascientists, having managed to open a portal to the realm of the dead. Shortly after they claimed to complete their project of two decades, the attacks began. Before this incident, there were no records of large-scale ghost attacks like would occur in the following months. The Fentons were found at the scene of most of the larger ghost-related events, and frequently opposed Phantom, claiming to want to capture him for scientific research. There have been theories that the Drs. Fenton intended to let ghosts ravage the town, but after finding and reviewing their papers, this is revealed to be untrue, since they simply wanted to study ghosts. Of course, there is a strong anti-ghost bias throughout all of their papers, and visible in some of their other creations, most of which are weapons targeting the undead.

Most of which is known about this couple is found in their papers, and in the autobiography of Jasmine Fenton, their daughter. It’s an interesting read, and I definitely suggest it to those of you who want to learn more.”

The camera panned back to Wes, who sat up straight in his chair, staring directly at the camera. “This leads me onto my chief theory in the haunting of Amity Park.”

Wes quickly stood up, and dragged over a white board with magnets, string, and photos all over it, layered on top of a jumble of writing.

“Oh god,” Sam mumbled, while Tucker just burst out laughing. Wes went red-faced, embarrassed.

“I worked hard on this! It’s not like you can complain, I’ve seen your tech collections!” Wes defended himself. Tucker’s laughter turned into a choke.

Wes took a second to clear his throat. “Anyways, now that the Fentons have been introduced along with Phantom, I’ll direct your attention to the board.”

The camera zooms into a photo of the Fenton family, from Jasmine Fenton’s autobiography.

“While not as commonly known, then Fentons had two children, the famous psychologist Jasmine Fenton, and her younger brother, Daniel Fenton, who was reported missing not long after the town was abandoned.”

Wes drags his finger to a second image and the camera follows, this one is a section from the Fenton Papers, what seems to be notes on the portal, claiming it did not work when originally turned on, only to be found open and the youngest Fenton somehow injured in the lab, alone. “The portal didn’t work until Daniel did something to it. Later in the notes, Drs. Fentons write down that their son merely turned it off and back on again and received a nasty shock.” Wes’s hand and the camera shifted to a small article in the news about the portal successfully turning on and the hospitalization of the youngest Fenton.

The camera zooms back out to Wes resuming an intense eye contact with the camera. “I believe that the youngest Fenton died to turn on the portal, and became the ghost known as Phantom, who only vanished once the town was abandoned, following the deaths of the Drs. Fentons and the departure of Ms. Fenton from the town.”

“That sounds cool and all, claiming that the ghost hunters’ son is a ghost, except for the fact that Daniel wasn’t ever reported dead until long after the town was abandoned, and no body was found in the empty portal. He was also still seen around and alive after the portal was opened,” Sam called out.

Wes snapped towards her. “He could easily appear human with how powerful he is, or maybe he’s possessing his own body or something?!”

“Seriously? No wonder no one else believes your crack theory on Phantom. It’s completely bogus. I’m more a fan of the theory that links him to a sighting during the Salem Witch trials.”

The two started yelling back and forth, arguing about the validity of Phantom sightings throughout time, and the possibility of Daniel Fenton being Phantom until there is an exasperated sigh from Tucker, and the video cuts off.

The video comes back on, this time both Sam and Wes are visible in the frame. The battery is down from four bars to three. It’s evening, and the setting sun easily lights up the sign behind the teens. “Welcome to Amity Park. A nice place to live,” it reads. There’s noticeable damage to the sign and has clearly been vandalized multiple times in the past. The countdown begins, and both teens converse patiently, occasionally sending the other sour looks but otherwise getting along. A few snippets of conversation are caught about the legality of trespassing while the two talk quietly.

There’s a signal from Tucker behind the camera and both straighten up and Wes begins talking to the camera.

“Welcome to Amity Park. We’ve made our way to the town, and the plan is to go over the most haunted portion of America’s most haunted town!”

Sam cleared her throat. “The section of town we will be investigating is colloquially known as the Neon District but is technically known as the Historical Downtown. This section of town has the highest recorded number of ghost attacks, and the highest number of ghost sightings. It was one of the first areas of town to be abandoned, years before the rest of the town was evacuated.”

“Why is it called the Neon District?” Tucker prompted.

“This section of town gained the name ‘Neon District’ after the color of ectoplasm, which is basically ghost blood, which has coated this part of town. Supposedly, it glows neon green just as the sun goes down,” Wes explained.

“Then let’s hurry up to get it on camera,” Sam huffed.

The video picks back up panning across the abandoned street. The camera is only at half battery now. There wasn’t anything blocking the street, no cars or trash left behind, just broken buildings and cracked concrete. Nature was slowly reclaiming this section of the city, with weeds and small trees growing in every available space. Visible nearly everywhere were splotches of bright green, dried and staining nearly every surface. Not all of the damages seemed to be caused by the passage of time, but like a tornado and a war had run through the street, leaving broken buildings and craters in its wake.

“Wow,” Sam breathed.

There were mummers of agreement from the two boys. The group began walking, while Tucker continued panning the camera back and forth across the street.

“It’s amazing how easily nature adapts once people move out. In another 40 years or so, this place will probably be completely overrun and overgrown, returning to part of the wildlife,” Sam commented.

“If it doesn’t ever get reinhabited, that is,” Wes added.

“With the rep this place has, I don’t think anyone is coming back here,” Tucker finished.

Quiet conversation was used to fill the silence. Wes talked about some random things to the camera, while Sam and Tucker engaged in some conversation about some local curiosity and events. None of them noticed as the camera caught one of the glowing green spaces moving from place to place. It floated about, nothing more than a bright dot on the camera, refusing to let the camera put it in focus. It floated from stain to stain, then slipped into the shadows.

“So, do you think we’ll see any actual ghosts on this trip?” Tucker asked.

Sam sent him a flat look. “I don’t see why not. If we’re going to get a ghost on camera at any point, it would be here.”

“Of course, we’re going to find ghosts here,” Wes huffed, “This would be a wasted trip otherwise.”

On top of one of the buildings, there’s more movement. A bright spec of white and black. Unlike with the smaller dot, the camera glitched out, drastically lowering in quality and cutting frames, sending static in between blurry images of the being.

“What even was the point of coming all the way out here? My feet are starting to hurt from all this walking, and I didn’t bring enough battery packs to rechange Jalisa all the way,” Tucker complained.

It was on top of the building, and then down in the alley. The group was getting closer to it and had yet to notice. It leaned out, seemly inspecting the group.

“It’s still really weird that you give all your tech feminine names,” Wes commented.

The figure in the alley in leaned a bit closer as the group approached. The camera was able to focus just enough to identify that it had white hair, gloves, boots, and a belt, while everything else was black.

“Says the one who runs a conspiracy channel,” Tucker retorted.

The figure slipped back into the alley as soon as the group approached. The camera seemed to buffer, before returning to its previous quality. When the group walked by the alley the figure had been in not a minute before, and Tucker panned the camera to the side, it was completely empty.

The image on the camera trembled, while Tucker made a shivering noise. “Does anyone else feel like they’re being watched?”

The video cuts once more.

When the video resumes, the battery only has one bar left. The trio is no longer in the neon district, but somewhere back by their car, which is a vintage black Volkswagen. It’s visibly dark out, with only a couple flashlights and the headlights of the Volkswagen lighting up the area. There are a couple of cardboard boxes scattered nearby, probably used to hold recording equipment and other materials for the video. Sam and Wes stand clearly in frame once more. The countdown goes down and both patiently wait this time. Both are clearly tired, and the image on the camera dips down a few degrees then right back up every few seconds.

“With that, our investigation of Amity Park is complete. While we did see some very interesting things, we sadly didn’t see any ghosts. I will be making a follow up video going over what we saw here today, and hopefully I’ll see you all for the next video, and please comment on what you found interesting, along with your own theories regarding the Haunting of Amity Park. With that, I’m Wes Weston-”

“I’m Sam Manson-”

“And I’m Tucker Foley-“

“And thank you for watching. Please make sure to like, subscribe, and turn on notifications to make sure to catch my next video,” Wes finished, but the camera continued rolling.

After a moment, Wes’s shoulders sagged, and he let out a heavy sigh. “Damnit. I was really hoping to see a ghost.”

“Why are you so interested in catching a ghost on camera anyways?” Tucker asked.

Tucker let his arm holding the camera fall, so it was now recording a set of boxes upside down behind them.

“My brother doesn’t believe they exist, and thinks Amity Park is an alien and or government experiment gone wrong. I want to prove him wrong as the better conspiracy theorist.”

Tucker snickered. “Honestly, aliens might not be too far off.”

Wes let out an undignified squawk, but his response was cut off short as a police siren sounded, and the area was flooded by the much brighter lights of a police car.

“Fuck,” Sam cursed.

The flashing blue and red lights painting the cardboard of the boxes accordingly. The sound of a car door opening and slamming shut was easily audible.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?!” An older, feminine voice shouted, clearly upset.

“Hi, Officer Grey,” Wes winced.

“God damn it, Wes! Am I going to actually have to put you behind bars before you get it through your thick head that trespassing is illegal?!”

“No ma’am.”

“And you two? What the hell are you doing here? Wes is expected, but not Ms. Protester and the local hacker.”

“Aww, Ms. Valerie, it almost sounds like you like me,” Tucker purred.

“Shut it, Foley. Just because you helped the department solve that one case involving the bank transfers, doesn’t mean you’re off the hook for hacking into the ad screens across the city to play your personal fragrance ads.”

“Damn it, Foley by Tucker Foley is a work of art, and you know it,” Tucker whispered.

“Officer Grey, we are currently on public property, and therefore not trespassing! We are doing nothing wrong!” Sam proclaimed.

“But you were in the city proper.”

“You have no evidence,” Sam refuted.

Officer Grey gave a long-suffering sigh. “Amity Park is dangerous, and not for some teens to go trampling about. It’s closed off for a reason. But you’re right, I don’t have evidence. But you all should still scram before something happens. It’s not safe here, even this far from the city, I’d know.”

“How would you know, Officer Grey?” Wes asked.

“I grew up here.”

There was a moment of silence, followed by some hushed whispers. During this pause, the boxes the camera was focused on glowed, lifted, and floated silently off screen. A soft “God damn Box Ghost,” was picked up from Officer Grey.

“Can we interview you?” Wes asked suddenly.

“Sure, as long as you get the hell out of here and schedule it properly. Also, Tucker, your camera is still on.”

The camera was lifted up, the final bar of battery on the screen blinked. It revealed Officer Grey to the camera, a middle-aged Black woman with hair shaved short to her head.

“Oh shit. Forgot to turn it off, it’s still recording too. Damn, that’s going to take forever to go through on top of everything else,” Tucker sighed.

“It’s still recording?” Officer Grey sounded worried. “Can I look through the last couple minutes of footage?”

“I mean, I don’t see why not, as long as you don’t delete everything. It would’ve just been recording audio and the boxes behind … us.” There was a pregnant pause. “Hey, where did the boxes go?”

The camera died.

#danny phantom #ectoberhaunt22 #eh chaos #day 13 #abandoned #goodfish writes #god this is late but it's mostly dialogue so it's fine #perhaps I'll catch up soon but it seems unlikely #but I should be done with the second part to this soon #hopefully

35 notes · View notes

jcwriting · 3 years

Text

Written in the Stars

summary ↬ being soulmates with a werewolf? pretty easy. being jungkook’s soulmate? the easiest thing in the world. there’s only one teensy tiny problem. he doesn’t want to fuck you.

pairing ↬ werewolf!jungkook x reader

genre ↬ soulmate!au, abo verse, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort (this is so fucking dramatic and for what)

word count ↬ 10.4k my hand slipped

warnings ↬ swearing, angst (but with a happy ending bc im a sappy bitch), jk is stupid in love (emphasis on stupid), mentions of violence (very brief and i don’t go into too much detail but just to warn yall), slight nsfw (sex is a big topic for like half of this but not sex is had...i know im shocked too), half of this is background info/setting up the story the other half is finally addressing the summary lolol, jk is kind of an asshole but he has reasons!!!!!

authors note ↬ hello lovelies! here’s a small little thing for you all (laughs in 10k word count). this has been sitting in my drafts for fucking ever and i just needed to get it out there and out of my hands. im thinking about writing a part two where the actual ~*/sex/*~ is had but im still on the fence about that. please let me know what you think! i literally crave your interactions so pls dont be shy,,,,,okay love you bye :)

(ps i was so close to naming this Rewrite the Stars but since this has absolutely nothing to do with The Greatest Showman i didn’t. but i was close,,,,so fucking close)

You always knew Jeon Jungkook was destined for great things.

It was written in the stars, your mother had told you after he had first stepped foot into your family-owned grocery store. Your mother didn’t have any special powers, she just had a thing for astrology. While you normally shrugged off her random proclamations about divine intervention and planetary alignments, you found that Jungkook was something you couldn’t ignore or chalk up as your mother’s latest tea leaf reading.

From the moment you set eyes on him you knew he was different. While your family held zero claim to any sort of mystical or magical inclinations, you were well aware of those who did. It was no secret that non-humans roamed the Earth in plain sight, even though it had taken humans eons to realize this. After years of savage wars and civil unrest, agreements had come into place and governing bodies were adjusted to accept the changes that had finally been made. But, this was all before your time. You were the generation that was born into the period of peace, the first children to not experience bloodshed before they could walk. The world you knew now was almost a complete one-eighty of what it had been.

Where before those who were not of human blood had to do everything they could to blend in, now could be free of the shadows. Your classrooms had both humans and non-humans in their rosters. Some of your teachers were hybrids. Curriculum expanded to teach humans about a world that had once been entirely unknown to them. One of your favorite teachers was a witch who regaled your tenth grade class with stories of goblin wars, wizard duels, and vampire covens. All tales that you had once thought were nothing but fiction were now anything but.

Which is why, the second Jeon Jungkook entered the grocery store that your parents owned and that you had worked at since you were old enough to speak in full sentences, you knew who he was. You didn’t even question it.

He was a werewolf. A powerful one. You could see it in the way he carried himself. The purposeful strides he took down the narrow aisles, the confidence in his broad shoulders. Humans weren’t nearly as sensitive as their hybrid counterparts but you also paid attention in your classes. Or, perhaps you were more aware than other humans. Never in your life did you have the issues other faced when meeting a non-human for the first time. You always knew who they were without them having to tell you. You just knew.

So, when Jeon Jungkook stepped up to your register with a bottle of water and some raw beef, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t bend under his dark gaze or shuffle your feet in an awkward attempt to break the silence. Instead, you flashed him your customer service smile and rang up his items. He didn’t say a word as he paid, barely sparing you a second glance as he strode out of the store.

“He’s going to be a great and powerful man,” your mother said in that feathery light voice of hers. “It was written in the stars.”

You couldn’t help but agree.

Jeon Jungkook came into your store everyday for the next month. He bought the same thing every time. A bottle of water and a package of raw beef. The only time he spared you any words was to say thank you or the occasional hello if the sun was shining. Usually, he was alone. Sometimes, he came with a few members of his pack. You liked those days. He smiled a little brighter and talked a little louder when they were around. Especially around Taehyung.

Then, after a month, he didn’t come in. Not for an entire week. From Monday to Sunday, you hadn’t seen a hide nor hair of him. A part of you was worried, so worried that you almost stopped Taehyung in the middle of the street to ask of Jungkook’s whereabouts before realizing how insane that made you look, the other part was chastising yourself for caring. Jeon Jungkook was a customer. Nothing more, nothing less.

The following Monday had come and you had finally stopped glancing at the sliding doors every five minutes. You no longer expected his commanding presence to rock your little world. Instead, you continued your day as if it had been any other. That was, until, Jeon Jungkook stepped through the entrance looking as if he was walking on air. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

“Did you have a good heat?” You asked when he stepped up to your register. Jungkook fumbled the water bottle he had been setting onto the conveyer belt before turning to stare at you.

“What did you just say?”

You didn’t shrink under his intense glare. “I was asking if you enjoyed your heat. Seems like you did.”

“How do you know I was in my rut?”

“Oh, is rut the correct terminology? Sorry, they always interchanged them in class, I was never sure what was appropriate.” You shrugged and rang up his items. “It was kind of obvious, though. You seemed pretty agitated about a week-and-a-half ago, then you disappear for a week, and now you’re back looking happier than ever. If it wasn’t your rut then I want to know where you went on vacation because that’s where I’m heading to next.”

Jungkook laughed. That almost made you jump out of your skin. You had never heard him laugh before. It was throaty, it was deep, and it was wonderful. “I’ll be sure to send you the link to the Airbnb.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

He smirked. “I’m here every day, aren’t I?”

You tilted your head as you accepted the cash he handed to you. “Clearly, you’re not that reliable.”

Jungkook laughed again. It was becoming your new favorite sound. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to appear flaky.”

“You’re forgiven,” you decided as you handed him the plastic bag of his purchases. Teasingly, you added, “just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

He flashed you a smile that showed off his sharpened canines. “Don’t worry, darling. I never make the same mistake twice.”

Jeon Jungkook kept his promise. He showed up everyday, like clockwork. Bought the same thing. Arrived at the same time. The only thing that changed was how he treated you. It wasn’t that he treated you badly before, he had always been polite. But now, he talked to you. He asked you questions and answered yours. More often than not, he laughed.

(It had become your favorite sound.)

For three months, this continued. The two of you had settled into a comfortable routine, something you relied on and expected. Until, he changed that.

Until, Jeon Jungkook asked you out on a date.

“What did you just say?”

“Are you free? Tonight?” You glanced around, almost expecting to see some sort of supermodel posing behind you to explain the absolute absurdity of the situation. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for the hidden cameras. I think I’m getting Punk’d.”

Jungkook sighed and placed both hands on the counter that separated the two of you. “Look at me.” You did. Slowly and warily, but you did. “Does it look like I’m lying to you?”

Narrowing your eyes, you regarded him carefully. He seemed serious. But, then again, do you ever really know someone? “I don’t know. I’ve never actually seen you lie before so I wouldn’t know the difference.”

“Fine. Ask me what color my shirt is.”

“What color is your shirt?”

“White,” he deadpanned. You glanced down at his chest. His shirt was black.

“Jungkook!”

He threw his head back and released a full bellied laugh. Even in your exasperation you couldn’t help but soften a little. “I’m sorry, darling. I couldn’t help myself.” Annoyed, you huffed and spun to face the cash register. Stabbing your finger onto the touchscreen, you ignored Jungkook’s obvious presence on the opposite side of the counter. Until his hand reached around the card reader and grasped a hold of your chin. The warmth of his fingers forced your head to turn to meet his.

“Come to dinner with me.” His voice was nothing but a rumble in his chest, his eyes so black and all-consuming you couldn’t do anything but agree with him. He seemed pleased by your response as his fingers tightened against your skin and a grateful smile flicked past his lips. His gaze darted down to your mouth and your breath froze in your chest.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to?”

“No.” You tried to shake your head but his grip didn’t allow you much movement. He was taken aback by your answer, a small frown tugging at his mouth. You quickly backtracked to fix the situation. “I don’t want our first kiss to be in a grocery store. That’s a new low that I refuse to reach.”

Jungkook chuckled and tapped your chin gently. “Alright, darling. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Again, he kept his promise to you. He showed up at your parents house exactly at seven, wearing a button-down shirt and slacks. The tulips he had gotten for you was thrust into your hands the moment you opened the door. Flashing him a genuine smile, you hurried into the kitchen to set them in water while your mother grilled him on his birth time. You were quick to drag him away, practically throwing him towards the car as you waved goodbye.

“Sorry,” you sighed as Jungkook opened the passenger door for you. “She has a…thing for astrology. She’s probably creating your star map or whatever right now.”

“It’s okay,” he responded once he got into the drivers seat. “It’s sweet of her to care.”

You snorted. “She’s delusional is what she is.”

“So, you’re saying you don’t believe in astrology?”

“Do you?”

Jungkook shrugged as he pulled out of your dirt driveway. He looked so damn attractive behind the wheel it was honestly unfair. “Not really saying I do or don’t. All I know is that there are a lot of things out there that are out of our control. If believing in the stars and planets helps you gain some of that control back, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

“God, don’t talk like that in front of my mother. She’ll want to start dating you.”

He grinned and placed a hand on your knee. “Tell her I’m already taken.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond to that. Not that he didn’t give you one, it was just that you literally had nothing to say. With just one sentence he opened the floodgates of your brain and the amount of thoughts that were flying through your conscious was painful. Anxiety fluttered in your stomach and you pressed your lips together to keep you from word vomiting onto him. No, it was better to keep your mouth shut and let the moment pass.

By the time you reached the restaurant you were a trembling mess of nerves. Were you guys dating? You thought this was just a ‘testing the waters’ date, not a ‘you’re my girlfriend now’ date. Did you have to make it Facebook official? You hated that shit.

Jungkook didn’t comment on your obvious distress, though. He merely placed a hand on the small of your back, ignoring how you jerked in surprise, and led you into the quiet bistro. Nodding politely to the hostess who was practically panting at the sight of him (you honestly couldn’t blame her) and pulled out your chair for you. When he sat down, he started talking. Idle chat at first. Commenting on one of the dishes, asking about the college classes you were taking at your local university. Before you realized it, wine was in your glass and your shoulders were loose. Previous nerves forgotten, you lost yourself in Jungkook. You drank, you ate, you laughed, and genuinely enjoyed his company. Honestly, it was the best date you’d ever been on.

“I have to be honest with you,” Jungkook spoke after he finished his raw steak. “I have an ulterior motive for asking you here tonight.”

“Oh,” you mumbled around the shrimp you had just tossed in your mouth. “So…this isn’t a date?”

“No, it is,” Jungkook clarified quickly around a dry chuckle. He seemed…nervous. It put you on edge immediately. “This is definitely a date. And, also, more.”

“More? What, is this a proposal too?” You were joking. A 100% joking. But Jungkook was staring at you so seriously it made you panic. “Jungkook, if you get down on one knee here I swear-”

“I’m not proposing,” he assured you. “This is something more than that.”

“More?” You parroted. Jungkook sighed.

“Do you know what a true mate is?”

Right there, in that quaint little bistro, on a date with quite possibly the most untouchable man you’d ever met, he explained how you were irrevocably his. His true mate, his soulmate.

Jungkook explained everything in great detail, which you appreciated, because honestly, you had no words. He explained how when he was born, the witch who cared for him told his father that his future glared brightly ahead of him, but only when he met his other half. True mates were rare. Mating was common, the wolves in his pack could have multiple mates or a lifelong one, but true mates were destiny. Someone or something out there had forged the two of you together. You were essentially each others other half. He was made for you and you were made for him.

“But…aren’t true mates only for wolves? I thought it’s impossible for a human to be a true mate,” you asked in a shaky voice once Jungkook took a breath.

“It was supposed to be impossible. Until, I met you.” Jungkook stared at you with a sort of reverence that made your entire body blush. “I have no idea how you are. I’ve spent hours researching. I’ve consulted with members of my pack and others. No one knows why.”

“Are you sure, though? I mean…what if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.” Jungkook shook his head. “I visited the witch right after I met you. She took one look at me and told me that I had finally found my true mate. She said she’d never seen a future so bright before.”

You had no words for that. For the first time in your life, you were speechless. Jungkook seemed to understand. He let you sit in silence as he paid for the bill and walked you out to the car. The drive back to your parents house was the same. You couldn’t speak. The shock rendered you stupid.

By the time Jungkook pulled into the driveway you still hadn’t spoken a word to each other. You stepped out of the car before he could open the door for you. Walking up to the porch steps in a trance, you didn’t hear him follow you until he clasped your wrist in his hand. Turning to face him, you were surprised to see his brown eyes so big. They practically sparkled in the moonlight and he looked so soft and sweet you nearly melted into the wood beneath your feet.

“Please,” he whispered. “Can you…just - are you okay? You’ve been so quiet. I’m worried I’ve scared you off or something.”

With that voice, it was impossible to deny him. So, you said the first thing that popped in your head. “Do we have to make it Facebook official?”

Jungkook stared at you before bursting into laughter. “Really? That’s all you have to say?”

You blushed and glanced down. “I’m just worried, that’s all. I can’t remember my Facebook password so even if you wanted to change it I don’t think it’ll work.”

“So that’s why you never accepted my friend request,” Jungkook teased. Before you could squeak out a response, he wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you forward. You kept your arms crossed across your chest but let yourself fall against him.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you whined as you buried your face into his shoulder. He smelled so good, a mixture of pine and spice. “My brain hasn’t worked since you told me I’m yours, so bear with me.”

Jungkook chuckled and gently swayed you from side to side. “Does that mean you’re okay with this? All of this?”

Sighing, you lifted your head up and stepped away from him. Jungkook was not impressed and pulled you back to him. Your heart swelled in your chest and you wrapped your arms around his neck in consolation. “Honestly? I haven’t really processed anything. You’ve had your whole life to come to terms with this. I just found out thirty minutes ago that I’m someone’s soulmate. It’s a lot to take in.”

Jungkook nodded as he tapped his fingers against your hips. “I know. It’s a lot…I’m a lot. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be with me. I won’t-”

Now it was your turn to burst into laughter. You couldn’t believe those words had left his mouth. It was easily the most absurd thing you’d ever heard. “Jungkook, I want to make something very clear. I have no problem being your true mate. That’s not the issue here. Well, there really isn’t an issue. It’s just…hard to believe, I guess. I have to process that this is my new reality.”

“Really?” Jungkook perked up and looked so fucking cute you couldn’t help but cup his cheeks. His skin was so warm despite the cold autumn air that surrounded you both. “You want to do this? Be with me? Be mine?” All you could do was nod. You were so overwhelmed with emotions. The shock was evident, but a piece of you was so happy. You felt whole.

Jungkook’s face split into a wide smile that caused his nose to scrunch up. He wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around. Squealing, you slung your legs around his hips and held on. Normally, you’d rather die than show this much affection to someone. But, this was Jungkook. Your soulmate.

“So…what do we do now?” You asked once Jungkook set you down. “Is there, like, a ceremony or something?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted as he stared down at you. He had a hand against your jaw and was rubbing your cheek tenderly. “I really didn’t think I’d get this far.”

You scoffed at his ridiculousness. While recognizing you were Jungkook’s true mate was going to take some time, believing that he thought you’d deny him was utter nonsense. “What if…what if we date, first?” You suggested timidly. “I know that sounds kind of weird considering we’re supposed to be the loves of each others lives. But, I don’t really know you all that well. And, I think this is going to take sometime for me to get used to. Maybe we should date, get to know each other, and just learn how to be with one another.”

“Whatever you want,” Jungkook agreed. “We can do whatever you want. Just as long as I have you, I’m happy.”

Two years passed.

Two blissful, wonderful years. Two years of dating, two years of loving, two years of being Jeon Jungkook’s. It was everything you could’ve asked for and more. You had never felt so loved and cherished in your entire life. He respected you, he took care of you, and most importantly, he was there for you in every sense. Since the moment you met him, you hadn’t been alone. He hadn’t let you. Jungkook knew you better than you knew yourself.

And, it was the same for him. You were there for him when he transitioned into the leader of his pack. You were there when he took over the CEO position from his father and encouraged and supported him every step of the way. You let yourself be loved and in return he let you love him. It was wonderful.

Except, for one tiny thing.

While the emotional aspect of your relationship flourished and bloomed into something beautiful, the physical side remained stagnant. Make out sessions and heavy petting were a norm in your relationship. At first, it didn’t bother you. In fact, you loved that Jungkook was taking things so slow and so seriously. But, eventually, your needs began to grow. You found yourself wanting him in more ways than one, wants that only he could satisfy. Jungkook refused. Every time.

It wasn’t like he refused your every need. No, Jungkook was extremely attentive. When it came to himself, that’s when things got dicy. He had no problem spending hours between your legs, worshipping you until you were crying from the overstimulation. Yet, he wouldn’t let you anywhere near him. Not without lack of trying on your part. The minute your hands went down to his waistband, he pushed you away. Every time you tried to dip your mouth to the obvious bulge in his pants, he lifted you up and kissed you breathless until you forgot your name. It wasn’t until after a year of dating that he finally let you grind on his clothed cock. Even then, he held off until you finished and then walked out with quite possibly the worst case of blue balls. You hated that he did this to himself. The worst part was, you couldn’t understand why.

The one time you had brought it up to him it had resulted in the worst fight the two of you had ever gotten into. It was the only argument that was never really resolved. After the yelling and the tears, all you got out of Jungkook was that mating with a wolf was not pretty. It was extremely dangerous and he refused to put you in that kind of danger. End of discussion. No matter how hard you tried to persuade him or broach the subject, he shut it down. Hard. Eventually, you gave up.

He even spent his ruts away from you. Every three months, he left you for a week. You knew he had a place somewhere up in the mountains and you assumed that’s where he went. You had no idea. There was no point even asking to come along. You loved your boyfriend and didn’t want to purposely give him a heart attack. You hated it when he left. As much as you tried to hide it and convince him that you were just fine, he wasn’t stupid. Being away from him was tough. A piece of you was missing whenever he was gone. And you were only whole again when he returned.

This past week had been one of those weeks. He had left on Sunday for the mountains. He was agitated and clingy, how he normally was pre-rut. Jungkook wouldn’t let you leave his side and you spent most of the weekend on his lap or wrapped in his arms. Not that you minded. When he left your parents house on Sunday night, you’d had to coax him out of the door. Promising him that you’d be okay and that you’d see him next week. It wasn’t until several kisses later did Jungkook finally leave.

While you’d been doing this for two years, it never got easier. More manageable? Sure. But definitely not easier. All you could do was go through the motions. You went to work at the local bakery, came home and helped your mom with dinner, watched TV with your dad before going to bed. Taehyung and Jimin would visit often, threatened by Jungkook to keep you company. While you assured them it wasn’t necessary, you secretly didn’t mind. They made you laugh and made you temporarily forget your boyfriend was miles away from you. Sometimes, if you were lucky, he’d call you to tell you goodnight. But those times were rare. Normally, you didn’t hear from him until Friday or Saturday when he was finally coming out of his rut and returning to the world.

By the time Sunday rolled around, you were a jittery ball of nerves. Not in a bad sense. You were just excited. The anticipation killed you and it took all of your willpower to sit and wait for his text to tell you to come over. Your parents always left you alone on these Sundays, unable to deal with your hyperactiveness and constant fidgeting.

This Sunday was no different. You puttered around your room for the better part of the day. You spent the other part in the kitchen, baking like your life depended on it. Jungkook loved your cookies and you always made sure to come over with at least three batches after his ruts. He always said that was his second favorite part about coming home, after seeing you, of course.

You had just finished packaging the final batch in a glass cookie jar when your phone dinged. You didn’t have to read the message, you knew exactly what it said. Pure joy rushed through your system as you threw on your coat and shouted a hasty goodbye to your parents. Juggling the cookies and car keys, you sprinted to your car. The drive to Jungkook’s was thankfully not long. About ten minutes, as long as you didn’t hit any traffic on the main road. Luck was on your side, though, and you showed up at Jungkook’s house in eight minutes.

Taehyung’s car was in the driveway when you pulled up, which wasn’t odd. Although Jungkook owned the house, the members of his pack were almost always around. While most preferred to travel in their wolf forms, you knew Taehyung and Namjoon preferred cars. Something about being able to listen to their own music without comments from the peanut gallery. You didn’t really understand and didn’t really need to. You had just chalked it up as one of their many quirks.

Carrying the trays of cookies in both hands, you shut your car door with your foot before speed-walking up the stone walkway to Jungkook’s home. The screen door was shut, but the wooden door was swung wide open. You had just reached for the metal handle when you heard it.

A deep, threatening growl ripped through the peaceful quiet and froze you in place. You knew it was Jungkook. While you had only heard it once, you’d never forgotten it. It was when the two of you had attended a party and an alpha from a neighboring pack had cornered you in the hallway. Jungkook had found you cowered against the wall as the other alpha had caged you in. The sound that had left his chest had given you equal parts comfort and fear. Comfort, because he was there and you knew you were safe. Fear, because you could see in the way he bared his teeth and how his muscles vibrated, he had been furious and bloodthirsty.

That’s what you felt now, fear.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

From your vantage point in front of the screen door, you could see directly into the kitchen. Taehyung was leaning against the granite countertop and Jungkook was seated at the island. The tension was so thick you practically choked on it.

“Enough, Taehyung.”

“No,” Taehyung snapped, seeming just as angry as Jungkook. “I’m not dropping it. Not this time.”

“Yes, you will,” Jungkook snarled. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Too fucking bad.” While Taehyung was also an alpha, he acted so much like a beta you never really noticed. Until now. “I’m not going to sit by and watch you do this to yourself anymore. Not spending your ruts correctly is only causing you more harm than good.”

“I’m doing things the way I want to, and it’s working-”

“The hell it is!” Jungkook growled at the interruption but Taehyung ignored him. “It’s not working, and you know it. Anyone with two fucking eyes knows it. It’s getting so bad that the pack is noticing, too. Even Namjoon has realized something is wrong, and he’s as oblivious as they come.”

“If they have a problem with me they can take it up with me.”

“No, they can’t. Because you won’t listen. Your head is so far up your ass you can’t even hear yourself anymore. What you’re doing right now is not working. Something needs to change.”

“Like what?” Jungkook spat.

“You know what,” Taehyung bit back. Jungkook was practically vibrating from rage. You knew you needed to go get someone, someone from the pack to calm the two of them down. Things were only escalating, but you couldn’t move. Your brain screamed at you to run but your legs were rooted in place. “That’s is what’s so frustrating, Jungkook. This, all of this, could be solved. She’s right there-”

“Don’t.” Jungkook stood up so fast the chair he sat on flew backwards and hit the wall with a resounding crack.

“Why?” Taehyung threw his arms up in the air. “Why not? I don’t get it-”

“Because I don’t want her!” Jungkook yelled, the force of it rang throughout the house. You had no idea who the she was that they were referring to. You assumed it was someone from the pack. It was well-known that wolves with human mates sometimes turned to other she-wolves to help with their ruts. You figured that’s what Jungkook did whenever he went away for a week. It had bothered you at first, but you knew he had his needs and that they were at a biological level. You refused to make him feel guilty or ashamed for taking care of himself.

“You don’t want her?” Taehyung was enraged. You could tell by the way he straightened his spine and unfurled himself to his full height. Jungkook bristled in response and the muscles in his back strained against the thin material of his shirt.

“No, I don’t!” Jungkook exploded. “What don’t you understand about that? I don’t want her around me. I don’t need her, I’m fine on my own. The thought of having her there when…God - it makes me physically ill.”

“She’s your girlfriend. Above all of that, your true mate. You’re seriously going to deny yourself of her, for what? Just because you don’t like having her around?”

Oh.

That’s when it hit you. They weren’t talking about some random she-wolf. They were talking about you. You were the one Jungkook didn’t want. You were the one Jungkook didn’t need. You were the one he didn’t like having around. As the weight of the words sunk into your mind, you felt your chest becoming tighter and tighter.

Then, you’re heart broke right in half. You dropped the container of cookies and didn’t flinch when it shattered against the wooden slats. The sound unstuck your feet from their position on the porch and your fight or flight system took over. Without a second thought, you turned on your heel and ran.

You didn’t know if anyone was behind you, you didn’t turn around to check. Hands fumbled for the car door as you threw yourself into the drivers side. Pain ricocheted throughout your chest cavity and you struggled to breathe. Your brain was blank, the only thing your mind did was move your body to get you somewhere safe. You had to leave and you had to leave now.

Miraculously, your fingers found your keys and inserted them into the ignition on the second try. A flutter of movement occurred to the left of you but your eyes didn’t let you look that way. Instead, they focused on the rearview mirror as you reversed out of the driveway. Your right hand found the gearshift and moved it to drive. Soon, you were tearing down the street as your ears refused to register the agonized howls that echoed behind as you kept staring forward. Adrenaline pumped through your system and your body shivered in response, the splash of hormones had created a blanket of fake calm over you. The emotions, the pain, the thoughts were swirling inside of you, ready to break free and drown you, but your brain wouldn’t allow it.

It wasn’t until you reached the end of your long driveway that you felt the original spike of adrenaline fade away. Your mother was in the front, tending to the flowers, and looked up when she saw your car fly into its usual spot. She stood up and her face twisted into a frown when you got out of your seat.

“Honey, your aura…it’s concerning.” The blanket was yanked away and the pain crashed over you.

You couldn’t say a word, all you could do was collapse in your mother's arms and cry, cry, cry.

It took you two days to calm down. The tears had stopped rolling and your shoulders no longer shook from trying to hold your sobs behind your teeth. Your mother hadn’t left your side, leaving your father to answer the door whenever someone knocked. The only person who did was Taehyung and Jimin. Jungkook never showed up.

Well, that was a lie.

Jungkook did show up every morning and night, without fail. But he never came to your doorstep. Instead, he was in the woods behind your house, patrolling, not daring to leave the protection of the forest. A part of you wondered if he was respecting your obvious need for space or if your mother had paid a witch to set up boundary lines that didn’t allow him to cross. Either way, you were grateful that you couldn’t see him. There was an incessant tugging in your heart to be near him but you staunchly ignored it, which would’ve been impossible if you saw his achingly beautiful face.

I don’t want her. I don’t need her. Having her there makes me physically ill. Those three sentences played in a constant loop in your head, like a horror movie you couldn’t escape from. You were the protagonist who couldn’t escape the maze, but the villain wasn’t kind enough to kill you off. No matter what you did, your brain wouldn’t stop repeating those three sentences. Your mother burned sage, she pressed crystals into your palms, she muttered ritual after ritual, but nothing worked.

You hated how affected you were. You had always told yourself that you would never be the girl who’d get so wrapped up in someone else they didn’t know who they were anymore. Independence was something you prided yourself on, but you seemed to be at a complete loss now. You couldn’t stop the waves of sadness and self-hatred at your depressed state. It was amazing how empty you felt yet so full of pain at the same time. Your mind and heart couldn’t seem to decide which hurt worse; your heart for having your soulmate so obviously reject you, or your brain for trying to make sense of the situation. When did this happen? How did this happen? How had you been so blind as to not see it?

“I don’t think we’re soulmates,” you rasped to your mom on the third morning. It had been the first words you had spoken to her since you had fell into her arms. She looked up from the bundle of herbs she was smoking.

“Why do you say that?”

You stared at your hands that had curled in on themselves. “I don’t make him happy. I-I never realized how uncomfortable I made him. I wish I had known. How did I miss it?”

Your mother tutted gently and gathered you in her arms. She smelled of lavender and wax. “This is good. I’m glad you’re letting yourself have this moment. Let’s sit in this and allow yourself to be embedded here.” But you didn’t want to have this moment. You didn’t want to have any moment and you’ve felt enough to last a lifetime. Instead, you rolled over, let sleep overtake you and tried to ignore the distant howling that rattled your window pane.

By nightfall of the fourth day, you were forced out of bed. Partly by choice, partly by force. Your parents had dipped out to run to the grocery store, despite your mother’s insistence that she could stay. You and your father managed to convince her to leave and you had gotten up to wave them goodbye. Sure, your heart was broken, but the least you could do was kiss them on the cheek before they left. You had turned around to shuffle into the kitchen to try and shovel something down your dry throat when a loud knock sounded at the front door. Hesitating, you carefully peeked through the kitchen window and saw Jimin on your front doorstep, dressed in all black.

Sighing, you stumbled over and pulled the door open. You figured you couldn’t avoid them for much longer. “Hey, Jimin.”

“Christ, you look like shit.”

You huffed out a laugh as Jimin stared at you in horror, not having the energy to be offended. You also knew, in a weird way, that this was Jimin’s way of caring for you. “Yeah. My mother’s covered all the mirrors in the house.”

Jimin nodded as he glanced at you from head to toe. “I want to ask if you’re okay but…” He gestured to your gaunt frame swaddled in a heavy sweatshirt and sweatpants. For the first time in two years, they were your own clothes, not Jungkook’s.

“I’m fine, Jimin,” you heaved a heavy sigh and leaned against the doorframe. “Do you want to come in? I think my mom boiled some tea not too long ago.”

Jimin shook his head. “Can’t. Jungkook would have a fit if I got that close to you right now. I’m already pushing my luck just by showing up.” He doesn’t care, you thought bitterly, and almost said it out loud but you caught yourself at the last second. Jimin wasn’t stupid, though. He knew what you were thinking. “Hey,” he murmured, eyes going soft, “are you ready to talk about it?”

“No.” You shook your head. A wave of sadness washed over you but the telltale prick of tears didn’t come.

Jimin understood. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he rocked back onto his heels. “Are you going to talk to him?”

Letting out a heavy breath, you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know I have to. I just…I just need time.”

“Take however long you need.”

It was another 48-hours before you finally snapped. While you had spent the majority of the two days that had passed to make yourself resemble a human being, you couldn’t focus. You couldn’t move on. Why?

Because Jungkook wouldn’t leave you alone.

His presence was constant. He circled your house every hour of ever day, the large shadow of him in wolf form darkened the trees behind your house. The howling had stopped but the pacing hadn’t. You hoped he was at least sleeping, but then you got annoyed at yourself for caring. You didn’t know why he was out there, it made no sense. Jungkook’s words were so different from his actions it made your head spin.

But, you needed to move on with your life. You had to. The only way it was going to happen was if Jungkook did too. It hurt. God, did it hurt. Yet, as sad and utterly pathetic as it sounded, you were used to the pain at this point, had resigned yourself to it. A part of you worried you wouldn’t know what to do without it.

Shaking off that depressing thought, you tugged on your rain boots and stepped outside for the first time in a week. The air was heavy with the promise of rain, the clouds low and gray. You tugged the hood up on your sweater to prevent your hair from completely frizzing out before you walked to down the back deck steps.

The backyard of your parents house was expansive. The home you had grown up in sat on top of a sloping hill that your mother had turned into her personal greenhouse. You stepped past rows of raised garden beds and pruned plants until you reached the line where the neatly mowed grass met the twisted ferns of the forest floor. As you had suspected, the ground was scorched with the evidence of past rituals. While your mother hadn’t out right admitted, you had figured someone had come and created a boundary line. It was obviously specific to Jungkook since Jimin and Taehyung were still able to visit. While your mother’s methods were extreme, you understood. As difficult as it was to move on with your life with Jungkook sequestered to the forest, you couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like if he was within a few feet of you.

With a deep inhale, you sat down on the damp grass and waited. After a few minutes, you could hear the faint sounds of paws hitting the wet earth. The galloping got louder and louder until there was a momentary stretch of silence before it changed to footsteps.

When Jungkook emerged from the trees, you weren’t prepared. Although you knew you wouldn’t be, you still weren’t expecting it to hurt this bad. Your chest squeezed painfully at the first look of his broad form. Technically, it had been two weeks since you two had truly seen each other, the longest you’d ever gone. What hurt the most was how badly you longed for him. You wanted nothing more than to run straight into his arms, bury your face into his chest, and forget everything. Just forgive and give your heart what it wanted. But you remained firmly in place.

Jungkook looked as if he had seen a ghost. Which, to be fair, was probably true since you hadn’t seen the sun in seven days. His normally golden skin was pale and even from where you sat you could see the dark circles bruising under his eyes. Clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping. You hated that you noticed. You hated that you cared. He was dressed in all black and his chest strained against the material of his sweater. His hands were balled into tight fists at his side and the sight reminded you of why you were here.

“Hi.” Probably wasn’t the best start but it was the best you could do. Jungkook didn’t respond so you soldiered on. “I-I know you don’t want to be here, so I’ll make this quick. I just…wanted to apologize. I had no idea I made you so uncomfortable. I’m not sure how long you’ve felt this way about me, not that it really matters, but I wish you had told me sooner. Maybe things would’ve been easier for you, who knows.” You released a heavy sigh and tried to shove down the stone in your throat as you forced the next words out of your mouth. “But, all of that doesn’t matter anymore. I think I understand what you need, now. I know you loved me at one point, but I’m obviously not what you need anymore. And…t-that’s okay - I swear it is. All I want is for you to be happy, Jungkook. And I think, in order for that to happen, I need to move on. We both need to move on-”

“Stop it,” Jungkook broke in with a harsh voice that cut your sentence in half. “Stop talking.”

It felt like he had slapped you in the face. A wave of humiliation washed over you and you visibly flinched. Staggering to your feet, you locked your gaze onto your boots in an attempt to hide the tears that dripped down your nose. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, not expecting it to change anything. You began to turn away but Jungkook stopped you in your tracks, again.

“Wait, no - stop. Stop. Please…don’t go,” he pleaded. When you turned around, his eyes were frantic. Jungkook’s hand was raised from his side as if he thought about reaching out to you but something stopped him. His words were at war with one another and you were caught in the middle, at a loss for what he was trying so desperately to convey to you.

“Jungkook, I’m so confused.”

“I know. I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry.” Jungkook tucked his head into his hands before dropping down into a squat. “This is all wrong. This is all so wrong.”

You knew you should walk away. You had said your piece, it was time to move on, just as you had said. Yet, you couldn’t. It was as if your heart was tethered to him and your body couldn’t handle the pain of walking away. “Listen-”

“I don’t know what to do.” He cut you off but the bubbles of anger that had risen from being interrupted popped once you saw how lost he looked. His tattooed fingers threaded through his hair, allowing you to see the pure anguish that twisted his features. “Whenever I feel like this, I come to you. Because you always know what to do. Any situation, no matter what, you can handle it. It’s something I’ve always admired about you.”

The way he spoke to you now, so reverently and so full of awe, made your head spin. Nothing made sense. It was such a blatant contrast to the brutality that he had spat out a week ago. As much as you wanted to believe what he said now, those stupid words could not get out of your head. It was a constant reminder that never shut up.

“I don’t know what to do either,” you admitted in a quiet voice.

“Tell me,” Jungkook begged, as if he couldn’t and refused to comprehend what you had just told him. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Whatever you want from me, I’ll give you.”

You were shaking your head before he could finish. “There’s nothing you can do, Jungkook. Nothing.”

“Don’t say that.” He stared at you, horrified. “Don’t say that to me. Please, there has to be something.”

“What could there be?” You cried. Tears streamed down your cheeks now. “You said it yourself, being near me makes you sick. Why would I stay? Why would you want me to? I refuse to make you uncomfortable anymore - so that’s that.”

“It isn’t,” Jungkook argued back. “It can’t be. I-I can’t lose you, I can’t. I need to make this right, please just let me. Please.”

But, you were tired. You were so fucking tired. You were exhausted of the emotional rollercoaster that you were on that you just wanted to crawl away and hide. All the fight seeped out of you as your shoulders slumped forward. Jungkook saw this and the blood drained from his face. You were giving up, he could see it, and it scared the shit out of him.

“Jungkook, I need to go, okay? I-I can’t do this.”

“No!” Jungkook shouted and shot up to his feet. The pure panic that choked his voice brought on a fresh set of tears that you struggled to hold back. “Just let me explain, okay? I swear to God, after you hear what I have to say, if you still want me to, I’ll let you go. I won’t fight you on it. But, please let me tell you the truth. Give me a chance to make this right. You deserve that.”

You hesitated for a moment. Deep down, you knew you should let him talk. Not because you necessarily thought he deserved to, but because he was right. You did deserve the truth, no matter how much it broke your heart. With a heavy sigh and a quick swipe of your cheeks, you nodded. Once Jungkook was sure you weren’t going to leave, he began pacing. Looking every bit like the wild animal you knew him to be but never got to see.

“Mating with a werewolf is…brutal. It’s intense, it’s painful and it isn’t pretty. It’s essentially a breeding session where I use you as a vessel to fulfill my innate biological needs. It’s not romantic, it’s not gentle. Even for she-wolves it can be too much. The thought of subjecting you to something like that - that type of pain…I couldn’t fathom it. I don’t think you understand just how precious you are to me. The image of you being battered and bruised because of me, something I did…it tormented me, day and night.” He paused for a moment, the pained look in his eyes made you shiver. You hated that he had gone through all of this turmoil on his own, and you especially hated how you never made more of an effort to try and relieve him of it.

“I couldn’t do it. That’s partially the reason I waited so long to tell you that you were my true mate. I knew ruts were something I would never expose you to even though it’s such a huge part of my life, a wolf’s life.” Jungkook looked you straight in the eye, the intensity of his dark gaze took your breath away. “I know the practices other wolves partake in when their own heats or ruts arrive. I know you know them too. But, I need you to understand something. The moment you allowed me to be yours and vice versa, I haven’t had anyone else since. I swear on my life, I’ve spent every single one of my ruts alone. I wouldn’t and I won’t do that to you.”

“Isn’t that painful, though?” Your voice cracked but neither one of you acknowledged it. While your knowledge on ruts were expansive, having done plenty of research since being with Jungkook, you had obviously never experienced one.

“It’s manageable. It’s way more painful for a she-wolf to go through her heat alone than it is for a male.” Jungkook clenched and unclenched his fists as he resumed his pacing. “The worst part is being away from you. I’ve been going through ruts since puberty, I can handle them. But not being able to be with you for a whole week…I hated it. Still do. I dread that three month mark. And as time went on, I became more and more miserable. Being apart from you was almost unbearable but the other option…I never even allowed myself to consider it.

“It came to the point where the pack was noticing. I wasn’t getting the proper pheromonal release from my ruts and it was beginning to affect those around me. Taehyung has been on my ass for months now to get over myself and take you with me during my next rut. Each time I’d give him some excuse, but it was getting harder and harder to justify what I was doing. At first, I was convinced it was because I was protecting you. But you’ve been so understanding and so patient with me and my life, those excuses were becoming useless. Eventually, I think it was because I was protecting myself. I was - am - so scared. I’m terrified that I could hurt you when I’m like that. That I wouldn’t be able to notice or worse, ignored, if something happened to you. Living with that type of fear became debilitating. So, I just kept my mouth shut and kept you away from that part of me.”

Jungkook shook his head and chuckled humorlessly. “Now I know that was the worst possible thing I could do. That I was just hurting you more. What you walked into last Sunday was a culmination of my frustrations that I was refusing to deal with. While it’s not a valid reason, I’m well aware of that, I need you to know that what you heard was not the truth. It couldn’t be further from it. Because the truth is that I’m hopelessly in love with you and the thought of being without you hurts worse than I ever thought was possible.”

It wasn’t the first nor would it be the last time that Jungkook left you speechless. It took you a full minute to process what he had said. Jungkook granted you the silence although he became increasingly more agitated as time passed. His boots scuffed the dead leaves that littered the ground and his pacing led him closer to the ashes that lay before your feet. Then, he’d suddenly stalk off with a growl as he was forced to keep away.

“I-” you cleared your throat around the lump that had found a home there. “I had no idea. This whole time…I thought it was because you didn’t want me.”

“God, no.” Jungkook swore heavily as his muscles bunched and coiled beneath his clothes. “The - the fact that…you - fuck. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. That’s not it, that’s not it at all. You’re my dream girl, you’re the love of my life, and I want you every second of every day.”

Maybe it’s because you were emotionally drained and had no mental strength left. Maybe, you needed to hear those words from Jungkook more than you realized. Whatever the reason was, it wasn’t worth trying to figure out an explanation as you sunk to the ground and burst into tears.

Jungkook lost it across from you. Broken whines stained the air as he carded through his hair anxiously. He kept trying to get to you, to try to soothe you. But the boundary was unfortunately doing its job and each attempt was met with failure. Curses were spat out until eventually, he got as close as the boundary would let him and fell to his knees. He began spewing whatever came to mind first, unsure of what to do. All he knew was that you were crying because of him and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He thought hearing you cry from your bedroom window was torture, but nothing could compare to hearing you break down in front of him. Nothing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m sorry…please, I’m so sorry. I - don’t cry, darling. Please don’t. I’m so sorry I hurt you, I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

It wasn’t tears of heartbreak that leaked from your eyes. Instead, it was tears of relief. While your heart had wholly accepted his words as the truth, the logical part of you reminded yourself that the two of you had way more talking to do. This was far from over, but the relief of knowing that he loved you and he was yours…it was indescribable.

You finally lifted your head up and were shocked to find Jungkook’s cheeks glistening with moisture. Your only thought was to comfort him as you scrambled forward to do just that. Instead of feeling his smooth skin against the palm of your hand, you were blocked by what felt like a wall although nothing stood in your way. Frowning, you realized with a start that the boundary worked both ways. Jungkook let out a frustrated growl as he glared at the ashes that was stopping both of you from getting what you wanted. It was silent for a few moments until an idea popped into your head.

“Wait here,” you announced before jumping up and taking off for the house. Ignoring Jungkook’s distressed cry, you ran inside. You yanked your car keys off from their designated hook and quickly typed out a text to your parents to let them know where you were going before spinning around and sprinting back outside. Jungkook was where you left him, although he stumbled to his feet when he saw you reappear.

“I’m going to your house,” you announced, breathless. “No witch is stupid enough to go that far into werewolf territory. If you want to talk to me there, then follow me.”

Jungkook stared at you for a heartbeat until the words you spoke clicked. “Y-yeah. Yes. Okay. I’ll be there.”

With a curt nod, you ran to your car. For the first time in a week, a faint sprout of hope bloomed in your chest.

It was the longest and shortest ten minutes of your life. The drive to Jungkook’s seemed to last a lifetime but also was over within a blink of an eye. The tears had stopped flowing by the time you pulled your car into his driveway, but you felt the telltale prick in your eyes when you saw him burst from the trees. Your heart ached as his long legs ate up the distance between you two as you wrestled with your seatbelt and threw the car into park. By the time you freed yourself, he was at the hood of your car.

The two of you stared at each other for a few breathless moments. You weren’t sure who moved first, but it didn’t matter as you crashed into each other’s arms. The moment his searing warmth enveloped you, you dissolved into another puddle of sobs. The feeling of his thick arms banded across your back, his torso molded to yours, and his hair tickling your ear, felt so right. Another wave of crippling relief washed over you and you practically melted against Jungkook. But he held you up, just like he always had.

He leaned against the front bumper while his hands were everywhere. Cradling your head into his neck, smoothing over your hips, or running circles over your shoulders. He was crying, you could feel the tears dampening your hair. But you were soaking his shirt so no one was in any position to complain.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t,” Jungkook hissed fiercely as he squeezed you tighter. “Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault, not in the slightest.”

“Kook,” you sighed and pulled your head back to get a good look at him. “It takes two to tango.”

“Not this time,” he argued. “You’ve put up with so much. You’re everything I could’ve asked for and more. It was my own fears that got in the way and created this mess. And I’m so sorry for that, darling. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You shushed him gently, running your thumbs over his cheeks to swipe at the dried tears. “I know you’re sorry. I believe you.”

Jungkook dipped his head further into your touch with a pleased rumble vibrating through his chest. He kissed your palm gently, sniffing at your wrist. It made you giggle. “Missed that,” Jungkook mumbled as he stared at you with stars in his eyes. “Missed you. Missed you so much.”

A fresh wave of tears cascaded down your cheeks. You were positive that you looked like a mess, hair in a knotted bun, face red and puffy and you kept sniffling every two seconds. But Jungkook looked at you as if you held the world in your hands. “Missed you too,” you murmured in return. “Please, next time, just talk to me. I may not have the answers you’re looking for all the time, but I’ll always be here to listen.”

“I know,” Jungkook whispered. “There won’t be a next time, promise. If I happen to be stupid enough to put us in this position again, I give you full permission to punch me in the face.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You lifted yourself onto your toes to brush your lips against his, dropping back down to your feet when his head chased after yours. “Or maybe I just won’t kiss you for a week.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened comically and he actually looked terrified. “I’d rather you just punched me in the face.” You tilted your head back and laughed. Jungkook tugged you closer and nosed your throat before peppering gentle kisses along the exposed skin. Sighing happily, you tilted your head to allow him better access and rested your cheek on his shoulder.

“I love you,” you said quietly. Jungkook froze for a split second before he sank against you. Squeaking in shock, you scrambled to brace yourself against the sudden weight pressing you towards the house.

“Say it again,” Jungkook pleaded. You couldn’t deny him. Dusting feather light kisses to the shell of his ear, you repeated those three words again, and again, and again. Each time you did, Jungkook held you a little tighter and cried a little harder.

Eventually, you’re murmured promises became softer and softer until the two of you just enjoyed each others presence. “C’mon,” you finally whispered as you started to lift yourself off of him. Jungkook growled and refused to let you move an inch farther. “Kook, come on. Let’s go inside. Your ass must be numb by now.”

“Don’t care,” he grumbled but he at least shuffled forward a bit more so that your combined weight wasn’t squashing his ass against your car.

“You might say that now, but you won’t be saying that later.”

Jungkook grunted at your logic but he at least raised his head and looked at you with the sweetest eyes. “Please tell me you’re staying.”

Giggling, you asked, “do you want me to?”

“Obviously,” he scoffed. “I want you here forever.” Jungkook tilted his head thoughtfully. “Actually, you should just move in with me.”

Christ, this boy was going to give you whiplash. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Jungkook, we just made up. The whole reason we were in this mess is because of poor communication. Don’t you think we should work on that first before anything else?”

“But…we could work on communication all the time if we’re together 24/7.” Despite his pout, you knew he wasn’t totally serious. Although you were sure it was going to come up again.

“Alright, you maniac,” you said fondly. “Take me to bed.” Jungkook’s chest rumbled happily as he lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his trim waist.

It wasn’t a long walk to his bedroom, but the exhaustion of the past week caught up to you and the gentle rocking of his steps lulled you into a serene state. Not quite asleep, but not quite awake either. You were aware when Jungkook placed you on his bed, practically engulfed in his scent. The last thing you remember before falling asleep was the words Jungkook pressed into your hair has he slid in behind you.

“Love you forever, my darling girl.”

©jcwritings Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

LINKS:

masterlist

ao3

TAGLIST:

yzkyzkuniverse

2K notes · View notes

jrosefangirl · 3 years

Text

Klaus Mikaelson Imagine/Fanfiction Idea

An imagine I wrote for Klaus Mikaelson with the potential to turn into a story or a series of one-shots. If I turn it into a story, I will likely use an OC instead of it being reader based.

This was originally posted on my other account thor-some-blog. I did not steal it.

Feedback is appreciated :)

*Third Person*

Digging through her purse, (Y/N) searched for her phone that was playing the telltale ringtone that she had assigned to her younger sister, walking through the Mystic Falls High parking lot towards her car.

“I’m a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world”

Finally, she manages to track down the device, only for the screen to fade to black and the song cut off as soon as she has it in her hands. (Y/N) sighs and goes to call Caroline back, but ends up running into a firm chest.

(Y/N) stumbles but warm, calloused hands on her arms prevent her from falling to the ground.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this, love.”

Her head snaps up at the accented voice, staring at the Original Hybrid in shock. His words cause her to flashback to the first time they met. She’d been hurrying out of the Grill, late for work and had crashed into him as he’d been entering it.

“What are you doing here?” (Y/N) drinks in the sight of him, all charm with a lingering sense of danger that thrills her to the core.

Klaus raises an eyebrow at her. “Are you not happy to see me?”

“I am,” she assures him. “I just didn’t think I’d see you again.” (Y/N) thinks back to the last time they were together. He told her that he was leaving Mystic Falls and they’d spent the night together in his bed, as well as other various places throughout his mansion. He kissed her goodbye the next morning and then he was gone. She cried as soon as he left. That was two months ago.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he admits, raising a hand and caressing her cheek softly. “I had to see you.”

Her eyes flutter close as she leans into his touch. “You said you were leaving for good.” Her eyes reopen to gaze up at him. “We’ve already said goodbye.”

One side of his mouth quirks up as he shrugs. “I guess I just can’t stay away from you.”

Klaus leans forward but (Y/N) shakes her head in denial, taking a step back. “We can’t keep doing this, Nik. My family-”

“Will understand.”

She scoffs out a laugh. “Clearly you’ve never met Caroline. Did you forget what happened last time?”

(Y/N) knows that by the amused look on his face, Klaus is thinking back to when Caroline had caught them together. After running into each other at the Grill the first time, they bumped into each other twice more before Klaus offered to buy her a drink. While she had been well aware of all that he’d done to her sister and her friends, she couldn’t deny the pull she felt to him.

Klaus and (Y/N) started meeting in secret, at first it was just as friends, but soon enough she started falling for him and though he never said it, she knew he felt the same. She loved the thrill of their forbidden romance, until one night when Caroline showed up unexpectedly at her apartment. Using her key to let herself in, she caught them with their pants down, literally.

“I do believe Caroline created a new shade of red that night,” Klaus replies and (Y/N) has to hold back an amused smile, remembering just how red her younger sister had gone and the yelling that had immediately followed.

“That only proves my point,” she insists. “We can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep saying goodbye to you.”

He steps closer to her, invading her senses. “Then don’t say goodbye.”

“Nik...I told you before...I can’t.” When he told her he was leaving, he asked her to come with him. Thinking of her sister, her mom, her job, she turned him down. Her whole life was in Mystic Falls. Though she hadn’t anticipated the hole that he left upon his departure.

“Marry me.”

(Y/N) ’s eyes nearly bug out of her head. “What?”

“Marry me,” he repeats. “I know you, love. I know you’re afraid that one day I’ll get bored of you, afraid because you’re human and I’m a hybrid. Let me put those fears to rest. Marry me.”

He was spot on. Though she’d never said it out loud, that was the real reason she turned down his offer to go with him. She didn’t want to give him everything, only to suddenly have the rug pulled out from under her.

But she loved him. “You’re crazy,” she whispers.

Klaus shrugs and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a black velvet box. “Maybe I am.” He opens the box to reveal an oval cut diamond that is easily 5 carats, resting on a simple gold band. “But wouldn’t it be fun to find out?”

“It’ll never work,” she decides, shaking her head. “You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re as stubborn as a mule,” he retorts. “And bossy, and loud and irritating, but none of that matters because I love you.”

Her mouth drops open a little at his words. That’s the first time she’s heard him say that. While she had known for a while that he was in love with her, the words had never left his lips prior to this moment.

“Nik-” the words die in her throat as the phone in her hand begins to buzz once more. Aqua’s Barbie Girl fills the air once more as Caroline’s face flashes on her screen. (Y/N) glances from the phone, to the ring in Klaus’ hand, to his face and then back down to her phone.

“What’s it going to be love?” Klaus asks and she glances up at him once more. After a moment, a slow grin spreads across her face.

***

Caroline huffs as her sister’s phone goes to voicemail yet again. “ (Y/N) ,” she hisses into the phone. “Stop ignoring me and answer your phone. My grad party is in full swing and the only thing that is missing is my sister! Get over here and grab more ice on your way!”

She tucks her phone into her pocket and turns back to her guests. The boarding house is full of people there to celebrate the new high school graduates; her, Bonnie and Elena have been planning this since their freshman year. While she is glad to have her friends there with her, it doesn’t feel complete without her older sister. While (Y/N) may be seven years older than her, the two have always been close.

Throughout the rest of the party Caroline attempts to call her sister several more times, only for it to go straight to voicemail every time. When the party ends, Caroline heads home, intending to drop off her graduation presents before heading to her sister’s apartment to track her down and give her a piece of her mind.

However, upon entering her bedroom, Caroline is surprised to find a white envelope resting on her pillow with her name written on it in her sister’s neat script.

Taking a seat on her bed, Caroline rips it open and pulls out the letter inside.

Dear Caroline,

First off let me say how proud I am of you. You finally did it! High School is out of the way and I can’t wait to see what you decide to do next. Whatever it is, I’m sure that it will be spectacular because nothing Caroline Forbes does is ever dull.

I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to celebrate with you today, I promise that I’ll make it up to you. Something came up...or someone I should say.

Klaus came back today, and while I know that you don’t necessarily approve...I’ve decided to leave with him.

I love him, Caroline. I didn’t realize exactly how much until he was gone. I turned him down last time because I didn’t want to leave you and mom but I know now that you’ll be okay. I made the mistake of letting him go once and I’m not going to do that again.

I hope that you can find it in your heart to understand and if not I hope that one day you can forgive me.

I love you Care Bear, we’ll see each other again soon. For now, I’m off to see what the world has to offer with Klaus by my side. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be okay.

With much love,

The future Mrs. (Y/N) Mikaelson

***

Klaus and (Y/N) lay sleeping side by side in a plush king sized bed, curled into one another. A warm breeze drifts through the open balcony doors, fluttering the curtains as the bright moonlight shines down on the couple.

The newly wedded couple stays asleep as the night goes on around them, late night dwellers wandering the Parisian streets, the Eiffel Tower gleaming in the distance.

For the moment, everything is right. Everything is perfect. And neither one of them are aware of the future that is about to unfold before them.

141 notes · View notes

moonlit-imagines · 3 years

Text

The Doctor Is In

Stephen Strange x reader

Bruce Banner x reader (platonic)

warnings:

a/n: hey! idk how to build stairs guys. i didnt feel like researching it. i dont care if it’s wrong. leave me alone. part 2/2.

prompt:

Out (1)

There was no hope of Stephen coming back. Every truth you had to face was harsher than the last. Even when you got home and realized that Wong was among the vanished...and he didn’t fix the stairwell.

Maybe the stairwell was a good thing. It gave you something to focus on in these hard times. Sure, it’d been a month since the incident, but that still wasn’t enough time for the world to heal. That meant that contractors were hard to come by. But the roof would have a tarp over it for some time. No way you’d deal with that.

So you took a trip to the hardware store, you stocked up on wood and nails, lacquer and wood stain. Anything else you needed for the project. Anything to keep you busy.

There were so many sleepless nights. You hated being alone in Sanctum, hated being alone in your bed. Every so often you would nap on the couch, but then you’d get right back to work. Weeks on end you spent on the stairwell. How long will you stick around while I talk about the stairwell?

Doctor Banner called you from time to time. His voicemails were kind, heartfelt, but you couldn’t stop now. The gutted stairwell from a couple weeks ago was coming by very nicely. As nice as it could when worked on my an amateur. Alright, it looked awful, but you couldn’t stand using a ladder to get to the second floor.

As you were staining the wood, you played a message from Bruce:

“Doctor L/N, it’s Bruce. I hope you’re doing alright, but you know that if you’re not, I’m here for you. All the remaining Avengers have kind of...gone their separate ways for the most part, they’re pretty broken up about everything. I just want you to know that because you don’t...have to be strong right now. I understand if you can’t be. Just call me back whenever you can? I want to make sure you’re alright. We’re survivors, we should stick together.”

Bruce hadn’t known you long, but he was still a great person and friend. You should call him back, but if you lost focus, you may lose yourself. So you continued to wipe against the grain of the fresh stairs and moved to the next step. And the next. And the next.

The last step was the lacquer and seal. You were scared to finish up. What would you occupy yourself with once this was over? You thought about the answer until the very last step and admired your shabby craftsmanship. It’ll do. Or maybe you should tear it all down and start over? While you were thinking over your newest thought, your phone rang again. Bruce Banner.

“Hey, Bruce.” You answered the phone as you normally would and sat on the floor in front of your work.

“Y/N?” Bruce asked in disbelief. “Y/N, hey! How are you? I don’t know if you’ve been getting my calls..?”

“I have.” You quickly replied.

“Oh.” He quietly nodded to himself.

“I’m sorry, Bruce.” You realized your mistake and knew you may have come off as a little rude. He’d been nothing but kind to you, but you’d just realized you were alone today.

“No, no! It’s okay! I understand, don’t worry. What have you been up to?” His effort to start a conversation may be successful this time around.

“I fixed the stairwell. All of it. That’s what I’ve been doing the past few weeks. I just finished a few minutes ago.” You felt awkward talking to him. Not because of him, not at all. Just because you hadn’t really had any human contact in a while.

“I didn’t take you for a carpenter, Doctor.” Bruce was genuinely surprised with your skillset, you could hear it in his voice.

“And you still won’t once you see the job I did.” You actually managed to let out a chuckle. You didn’t know you could still do that.

“Oh, I hear ya loud and clear.” Bruce laughed, too. I wonder if he was having the same thoughts as you. “Y/N, do you want to go out to lunch like, now? I could use some company, maybe you could, too.”

“Yeah,” you checked the time on your watch, Stephen’s watch, and realized you worked through the night and day, “text me an address, I’ll meet you anywhere. See you soon.” You hung up pretty quickly, only to get ready ASAP. You were sort of covered in “stair supplies” and smelled like...not good. You’d take a quick shower, put on some clean clothes, and take off. Unfortunately, the stairs weren’t dry, so it was another round up the ladder.

—————

You finally took a trip back to your bedroom and shuffled through the closet filled with your...late husband’s clothing. It still smelled like him, surprisingly. You wondered just how long it would last. You hoped it’d be forever, but you grabbed your own clothes and quickly got dressed, then checked your phone to see that Bruce was running “a little late.” It’s okay, you were, too.

You took a seat on Stephen’s side of the bed and decided to snoop. Did it count as snooping if he was no longer here? You knew that he didn’t keep secrets from you, so what was the worst you could stumble upon? Books, books, and more books. But some were important books, ones detailing mystic arts. Maybe...maybe it was time to pick up a new skill. You stuffed the book in your bag and decided to head out now before you got too comfy in an actual bed.

—————

You and Bruce sat at a booth in the empty diner, awkwardly gazing over the menu while trying to stir up some conversation. It’d been a while since either of you had visited someone, you didn’t even know what to talk about.

“So, home renovations, huh?” Bruce asked while peaking over the fold of the laminated list.

“Something like that.” You sighed and set yours down and aside. “I know what I’m getting. What about you?”

“I just need a minute.” The only noise besides your bland conversation was the rustling of dishes in the back, which didn’t last for long. “Got it. A burger. That’ll do it.” Bruce announced and got the attention of the waiter.

Ordering took a second, but soon you and Bruce were alone again and ready to talk.

“How are the other Avengers? I know you said they went their separate ways, but...” You inquired and were surprised to see a smile crack on Bruce’s face. “What?”

“At least I know you listened to my voicemails.” He chuckled and took a sip of his iced tea. “They’re dealing with it. I don’t exactly know how. Nat’s staying at the compound, I’m sure she’s glad to have a home again. Cap went out on his own. Thor went back to his people. Tony and Pepper are trying to separate themselves from the world, I think. I don’t blame them. That’s all I know.” You stayed silent, but nodded along to his outer thoughts. “You alright?”

“I’m sorry, Bruce.” You started. “I didn’t mean to ignore you, leave you hanging. I just still don’t know how to take this. I keep thinking about what Stark told me when he came back. His whole ‘this will all make sense soon’ thing. Nothing about this makes sense to me.”

“Well, Strange was different, wasn’t he? He had that Stone, he had those powers, he might know something we don’t.” Bruce explained to you, an attempt to comfort you. “We’ve tried everything, y/n. Maybe it’s time to wait, maybe in time you’ll see that he sacrificed himself...for you.” You teared up at the scientist’s words and quickly wiped your eyes as the food was placed before you. “Thank you, sir.” Bruce said as the waiter walked off. “Hey, y/n? It’s okay that you’re hurting. I get it. But please don’t act like you’re alone. I’m gonna be here for you, okay?”

“Yeah,” you sniffled while hiding your wet eyes, “Me, too, Bruce.”

—————

When you got stressed out when you were younger, you threw yourself into your studies. Maybe that was why you were such an accomplished scientist. But what studies did you have now?

You had a library full of knowledge. It wasn’t your usual knowledge, but it would suffice. Now, the book that you’d snagged from Stephen’s bedside was a bit advanced for you, but that was okay. You had options.

Where would you even begin? This place was bigger than you remembered. Was this another spell? Did you know what you were talking about? Stop thinking, y/n. Start reading.

You picked out a book. You just ran with it. You recalled stories from Stephen. You remembered you needed the ring. What did he call it? Song ring? Sink ring? Slink ring?

Sling ring.

Not a problem, you could find one. Sanctum probably had tons. Maybe in Stephen’s study? You wished you had asked him more about his arts before, you just didn’t get it at the time.

One was stashed in a drawer. It was Stephen’s ring. The one he used himself. And it was the only one you could find, so it’d have to do. And so you got to studying.

The first time the air sparked by your hand was magical. Literally. But it made you feel something for the first time in nearly three months. And that was just the beginning. It felt like you were carrying on Stephen’s legacy in a way. You’d never be “Sorcerer Supreme,” but you didn’t have any intention of that. You just wanted his memory to live on, even if it were through you.

So you’d practice and you’d learn and you’d practice and you’d learn. You’d see Bruce whenever you could, and he soon noticed your mood change.

“I’m glad to see you happy for a change.” He told you while you walked through the park.

“Yeah, it feels great.” You told him while watching construction vehicles cleaning up the debris that had been lying around for months.

“I’ve been meaning to ask. What’s with the ring?” He looked at your hand and you lifted it closer.

“Oh...it’s Stephen’s.” You simply stated.

“Is it like a wedding ring?” He took a closer look and let you laugh it up for a quick second.

“No, no!” You shook your head at the ridiculous question. “I might as well show you. I haven’t told anyone yet, but that’s because you’re the only person I talk to.” You stopped in your tracks and shooed him back to give yourself enough space. “Ready?” Bruce looked terrified, but nodded a response and watched you raise your hands ahead, concentrating on the small portal you had began to open. Bruce recognized the opening since he’d fallen through it before.

“You’re one of the sorcerers?” Bruce’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I just started learning!” You exclaimed with a bright smile. “I needed something to get me through this all...and I wanted to protect Sanctum like Stephen and Wong had always stressed doing.”

“That’s...amazing, y/n. Self-taught magic? By a scientist, no less. Look at you go!” Bruce had a knack for being supportive. You were glad that he crashed through your roof and into your stairs.

“Thanks, Bruce. Maybe in time I’ll be able to cast a spell that fixes my roof.” You shrugged.

“Oh? Come on! I said I was sorry!”

—————

And then five years went by. Flew by, actually. You’d become a skilled sorcerer and used your skills around Sanctum. There wasn’t much to do here on Earth. It was a bit quiet.

Bruce was still a close friend of yours! You’d advised him in his quest for balance. He was no longer at war with himself.

The roof was fixed! You had Bruce spectate your very own spell to repair the damages he’d inflicted, but all was forgiven.

Then one normal day you got a call from him.

“Hey Bruce! How’s it going?” You answered, even though it interrupted your meditation.

“Can you meet me at the diner ASAP?” He sounded a little off, but still upbeat, so you opened a portal and stepped through to find yourself right out front. It was easy to spot him through the window, but there were others with him. Avengers.

“Hey, all.” You took a seat beside an unfamiliar one. “Hi, I’m y/n.” You told him as a plate of food was set in front of you.

“I ordered you your favorite. Hope you’re hungry.” Bruce smirked at you and let you get to it.

“So, it’s been a while, huh?” You asked the two Avengers across from you.

“It has.” Natasha sighed. “I wasn’t aware you were...also a sorcerer.” She began.

“I had a lot of free time.” Last they saw you, you weren’t as cool, calm, or collected. They were glad that you’d found peace. “I have a feeling this isn’t a social lunch.”

“I’m sorry to pull you from your calm, Doctor L/N—” You cut Steve off.

“Y/N is fine.” You replied.

“Scott here,” Steve motioned to the awkward man sitting alongside you, “was stuck in the Quantum Realm for some time, if you’re familiar. He thinks that there’s a way to...to undo what Thanos did.” You peered over at Bruce and watched him shrug as your heart started to beat faster and stomach started doing turns. You hated the thought of getting your hopes up, but you still dearly missed your husband.

“What can I do?”

—————

You had a hand in opening the dozens of portals around the ruins of the Avengers Compound, but you weren’t the only one. Stephen, Wong, and hundreds of other sorcerers were assisting to bring an army to combat the troops of an outdated Thanos, and you were so close to Stephen.

Using your magic to create a pathway to the sky, you leaped from step to step to get a clear look of the battlefield. And to let Stephen see you. He did. And so did the cloak.

You’d never used your powers to fight, so you’d have to step it up out here. But you knew Stephen wouldn’t let you get hurt. And you believed that you could handle this yourself.

“Y/N!” Stephen called to you as he flew to your altitude and held you in a special embrace that you’d nearly forgotten the feeling of. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Are you kidding me, Stephen?” You chuckled through tears that you just couldn’t hold in, tears that dragged through the dirt and dust on your face, clearing small lines down your cheeks. “I have missed you every day since the moment you left. I am so glad to have you back.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye, y/n. I truly am. But I knew that you would manage without me. You always have.” He explained to you in such a heartfelt way, admiring your capability to still be standing in the air.

“You knew I’d become a sorcerer, didn’t you?” You cocked a brow and watched him smirk.

“I had an inkling.” He joked with you as the firefight below was still rampaging.

“It’s very unprofessional of you to be talking to your s/o during times of crisis like this.” You chuckled and broke your spell to fall back to the ground, stopping yourself before it was too late in what could only be described as a “superhero landing.” Now that you were on the ground, assistance was required for your own side of the battle.

You and your fellow sorcerers had to defend more than anything. Shields popped up across the battlefield in an effort to keep your people alive. There were too many close calls and you wanted to survive long enough to go home with your husband.

“Y/N, over here!” Stephen beckoned you to the flood that would have made this fight much harder, and you were delighted to defend alongside him. The cloak rushed to you and gave you a fast track to the edge of the water, you couldn’t help but that it for it’s kind service. “Ready?”

“Of course.” You lifted your palms and motioned towards that water, redirecting it and keeping it at bay for the time being. “I love you, Stephen.” You remembered to tell him.

“I love you, too, y/n.” He replied with his focus still on the flood. “And I’m proud of you. So very proud.”

“Couldn’t have done it with you.” You joked and stabilized the rushing waters, giving you a true load-off before the end was clear. Dust passed through the sunken hole you all stood inside. Dust of your enemies that had finally lost. You and Stephen stared at each other in disbelief, yet couldn’t help but run into each other’s arms. “This is real? We won?”

“In a way.”

—————

Stephen and you dressed in all black were standing in the back yard of your savior. Tony had given his life to give others a life. You were just sorry that it had to be him.

Bruce stood alongside you with a long face and an injured arm. It was time for you to be there for him like he’d been there for you.

“Thanks for bringing back my husband, Bruce.” You whispered to him while holding Stephen’s hand tightly. Over the past few days, you just couldn’t seem to let go of him.

“Oh, yeah? That was nothing.” Bruce playfully answered through his sorrow.

“How’s your arm feeling?” You asked him, making sure the sling wasn’t twisted up an any way.

“Not the greatest, but I’ll be okay.” He assured you and watched as you leaned your head onto Stephen’s smile with a sense of relief. “I’m really happy for you, y/n...”

“But?” You raised an eyebrow with a hint of worry.

“But you better still hang out with me.” He smiled at you and you even heard a chuckle escape Stephen’s lips.

“You can count on it, Bruce.” You lifted a hand for a fist bump and collided your knuckles with his, even if they were a bit oversized.

“Shall we get going, dear?” Stephen asked you while he hooked his arm around yours and opened a portal home. You waved goodbye to Bruce and went on your way, stepping right into Sanctum as the way closed behind you.

“So you really meant it, huh?” You asked your husband while setting your belongings down.

“That I love what you’ve done with the place?” Stephen laughed at your oncoming smirk and walked forward, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you forward to kiss the top of your head. “Of course, dear.”

“Even the stairs?” You peeked your head up to look at your husband and watched his smile grow. You’d never bothered casting a spell to properly repair them. Maybe you were just too proud of your work. Maybe it was a reminder that you got through these five years on your own terms.

“I do.” He leaned down to kiss your lips. “It adds character to this place.”

“More character than the magic?” You prodded at him.

“I think you mean ‘sorcery.’” He corrected as you leaned into his chest and slightly swayed back and forth, taking in his presence for the 50th time since he’d come home.

“Oh, of course. Silly me.”

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedficrecs // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisqueer // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove // @ofthedewthesunlight // @canarypoint // @zoeyserpentluck // @randomawesomeperson102 // @ghost-bich // @wonderful-writer // @of-a-chaotic-mind // @groovyfluxie // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @lxncelot // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @blizzardbabe // @agentshortstacc // @rosadiaz-sarayvargas-harleyquinn // @werewolf-himbo // @comiocudequemtalendo1 // @mochamoff // @the-marvel-meme-emporium // @summersimmerus //

#stephen strange imagine #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange #dr strange x reader #dr strange imagine #dr strange #marvel #avengers #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #bruce banner #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner imagine #hulk #hulk x reader #hulk imagine

296 notes · View notes

niteshade925 · 3 years

Text

Meta Theory: Man vs. Nature (Long Post)

(SPOILER WARNING for Historia Antiqua act 2: No Mere Stone; I was clearing my drafts box, saw this draft, and just went “why not” ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ This post is a month late coming on the tail end of v1.5, but it does contain lore speculation, so anyways, hope you all enjoy reading it.)

The biggest thing No Mere Stone contributed to the overall lore is the idea of "erosion" from time. TvTropes nailed this one on the head with the "who wants to live forever" trope entry for Zhongli. But old age wasn't the full reason for Morax/Zhongli retiring. The other part of it is because he's seen what erosion did to Azhdaha (made him forget his pledge to Morax to protect Liyue), so he wanted to prevent this in case it ever happens to himself. He wasn't just tired, he was also afraid of turning back on his word to protect Liyue due to erosion, because he still has a considerable amount of power, and if he ever went full-on berserk like Azhdaha did, it would spell disaster and maybe even doom for Liyue.

“Even I cannot avoid it. But there is something I understand better than most: When the door opens, it is time to leave.”

So what exactly is this "erosion"? Zhongli refers to it as a curse from Heavenly Principles/天理 (this was one of the many things lost in the English translation), which is interesting, since this points to the Heavenly Principles, Celestia, the Archons, and the various gods of Teyvat being simply forces of nature or natural phenomena. This is made even more clear with Azhdaha. The original Chinese had Zhongli using a phrase to describe Azhdaha: 地龙翻身，撼天动地, which roughly translates as "when the Earth Dragon turns, the heavens shake and the earth quakes". The first part of the phrase, "地龙翻身", came from traditional Chinese folk belief and astrology, and was used as a metaphoric term for earthquakes. Thus we can definitively conclude that Azhdaha is the literal representation of earthquakes. So what was Morax? From his elemental burst, I'm guessing that Morax could be a representation of meteors, which accounts for his combat style of dropping boulders from above. The same extends to Barbatos and Decarabian, and possibly each of the other five Archons. The elements themselves represent different forces of nature, and there’s even hints in game of the existence of many more elements than just the seven we know about:

Coming back to Heavenly Principles/天理. Based on all of the above, we can conclude that the Heavenly Principles is some sort of representation for the laws of nature, physical rules of the universe, kind of like fantasy equivalents of the 26 fundamental constants or laws of thermodynamics or conservation of mass and energy. Basically something that rules over all forces of nature and natural phenomena. This has interesting implications for the nature of the central conflict of humans vs. gods that I have posted about before, and partially turns it into the classic conflict of man vs. nature.

Going further along this theme, the whole story can be viewed as a sort of fictional retelling of the timeless struggle between humans and nature, which also very roughly paralleled real life human history. In the beginning, humans were totally at the mercy of the gods and the elements (nature), and because they did not understand how the elements (nature) worked, they worshipped beings of different elements (different aspects of nature) as different gods and sought to appease them. The gods (nature) helped humans by giving resources: in Mondstadt, people have windmills to utilize the wind, and in Liyue, people mine resources and trade with gold. However, the gods (nature) also kept them from knowing the true inner workings of the universe. Eventually, humans sought to understand the elements (nature) and harness it for the betterment of their own lives, and so alchemy (meant to parallel science irl) and technology came into being. The most technologically advanced human nation, Khaenri’ah, stopped worshipping on the gods, and instead relied on their own technology. This is basically what we know about Teyvat history up until Khaenri’ah’s destruction.

So what exactly happened to Khaenri’ah 500 years ago? In other words, why, according to Dainsleif, did the gods destroy Khaenri’ah?

Assuming the parallels to real life hold up, we might have a feasible answer to that question right now. In real life, human-made technology is so effective at harnessing and exploiting nature that it may have changed Earth forever. However, this has plenty of consequences, some of which I’m sure we all know about. From a purely mystical point of view, it’s as if nature is “aware” of what humans did, and is beginning to punish humans.

Perhaps the gods of Celestia, the Heavenly Principles themselves, destroyed Khaenri’ah because its technology posed too much of a danger for nature, or Teyvat itself.

This isn’t just baseless speculation either. In No Mere Stone, the part of Azhdaha that sought to peacefully coexist with humans told us that the reason Azhdaha lost it wasn’t just because of the “Heavenly Principle” of “erosion”, it was also because humans overmined the resources that sustained him. Treat nature badly, and nature will fight back.....this might be literally true in the world of Teyvat.

However, this isn’t the entire story of Genshin, of course, and there’s much more to the storyline than just “man vs. nature”, even if this theme does turn out to be real. The writers are pretty ambitious with this story.

#genshin impact #man vs nature #no mere stone #historia antiqua #zhongli #meta theory #genshin lore #speculation #thoughts

89 notes · View notes

thestarsoutofyourwindow · 3 years

Text

Forbidden Library - The Doctor x Reader

This was written with 11 in mind, but you can easily see it as 10, so it’s your preference! I wrote this as a description experiment, then tried to apply some story to it. I’ve been trying to master character/body language too, so this took a while to write because I just couldn’t settle on anything, so I just gave up. If this does well I may do a part two, and I’ll try to make it more romancy. Word Count: 2,161 Summary: You hear a book fall whilst in the library and go to investigate. You stumble upon a book that answers the questions you’ve been asking yourself for a long time, but you just can’t bring yourself to lie to the Doctor about it. Warnings: Time War heavily referenced, Comforting the Doctor, A lot of description, You find it hard to lie, Reassuring the Doctor.

All of time and space, he said. Wherever, whenever, and home in time for tea. The Doctor has always been a bit of an enigma to you. You knew practically nothing about him, yet if anyone had asked, you would consider him one of your closest friends. However, whether or not you're the sort to ask questions, you had a feeling he isn't as honest as you'd like to believe.

The first time you had asked him about his people and planet, he ignored you completely, babbling about the asteroid you were supposed to be visiting. The second time you had asked, he dodged around it, giving you a half-arsed response. All he told you is that his race died out a long, long time ago and that there was a war. After that, he excused himself, and you couldn't bring yourself to mention it to him again.

You had to admit, that puzzled you: you had believed it to be a sensitive subject, so of course, you left it there. No matter how curious you were, you're not going to force The Doctor into reliving anything he'd rather not. But sometimes it did keep you up at night. The Doctor had never seemed like the fighting sort, but something about his recount didn't settle right with you. You weren’t sure what. Usually, on those nights where you end up in an hours-worth of conversation with the TARDIS, you would truly realise how much you thought about it. As weird as it sounded, you felt she was listening as she would often click or whirr in response. You felt insane the first time you did it, but the longer you spoke to her, the more normal it felt. You hardly mentioned your conversations to the Doctor, but whenever you did, he only grinned to himself.

"Doctor?" You peeked into the library. It was, and always will be, the most impressive library you had ever seen. There were cherry-wood bookshelves, that stood towering over you, each shelf overfilled with beloved, worn books. The library was like a maze, asides from the sitting area where a few chairs huddled around a fake-fireplace, there was an indeterminable quantity of shelves. The rest of the library was lit up by fairy lights, which looked as if to be a new addition to the systematic chaos, making the already supernal library look even more mystical. According to the Doctor, the TARDIS has full management over the configuration and layout of the bookshelves, sort of like the Hogwarts stairs. There were step-ladders haphazardly scattered throughout the library. There was the occasional ivy plant that had grown and twisted down the bookshelves. One day you had been scrolling through Tumblr, and a post with ivy plants showed up on your feed. You talked about how cool that is to the TARDIS; within the next week ivy sprung up all over the place, including the kitchen. The Doctor made a passing remark about the ivy plants, and you confessed, alongside a frantic apology. He laughed, telling you it didn't bother him.

"Yeah, Y/n/n?" He mumbled, not so much as blinking away from his book. He hunched over it; his legs draped off the arm of the chair due to his inability to sit correctly. He nestled himself in a duvet, and which would be inconspicuous if not for his head poking out. "Have you seen... Woah. Fairy lights!" You smile, looking up at the tastefully draped lighting. "Is this your doing?" The Doctor asks ludicrously, turning to face towards you, gesturing over at the shelves, "I knew the TARDIS liked you, but this is getting ridiculous."

You chuckle for a moment before peering back at him, "I only came here to ask if you'd seen the book I left on the kitchen counter, but if you're going to criticise me so rudely, well I guess I'll go trip over something important." The Doctor grimaced at that, "That's really not necessary, I think... Yeah, I brought it in here with me earlier." He gestured the book out at you, over the back of the armchair. You stepped closer, about to take the book, when he pulled it away, his eyebrows furrowing. "Are you going to do some reading? If so, would you like to, um, maybe sit and join me?" "Yeah, why not?" You marvel, looking him dead in the eye. You walked around the chair and sat on the armchair next to his.

You cosied down and tried to focus on reading. However, your anxieties and considerations began cropping up again. You lost yourself in thought over what the Doctor keeps from you. Peeking up at the Doctor, you noticed his eyelids drooping. You watched attentively; you had never seen him asleep, oddly enough. His head, already tilted into his chest, slipped further. His tousled brown hair settled on his face, and his breathing eased. His grip on the book slackened. You remained there, admiring the sleepy face you had grown attached to over the months of touring time and space together.

Due to the endearing nature of his subtle breathing, you hardly realise the TARDIS clicking to get your attention. A distant thump draws you out of your hypnosis, the sound emanating from deep in the library. You stir noiselessly out of the armchair, as to not disturb your friend, and hesitantly edge towards the direction you assume it originated. You notice a small, cherry wood door in the wall between some bookshelves. Convinced you have never seen that door before, you approach the door. Stopping dead in your tracks for a moment, you take a moment to calm your nerves. The TARDIS would never let you get hurt, at least if she could help it. You reached your palm out towards the handle and, taking the TARDIS's silence for approval, enclose your hand around the metallic knob and twist.

Behind the door was what appeared to be the smaller section of the library, perhaps it's a study full of books the Doctor had just never taken back to the library? From what you could make out through the darkness, and the distinct smell of dust, the bookshelves were similarly themed to the ones outside. Although, these shelves are in a much smaller room, both vertically and horizontally. A desk was facing towards the door on your left, and a beanbag on the floor to your right.

You were about to close the door and leave, ready to call it his study and leave it at that. But as the door was half-closed, it dawned on you that the Doctor had never even mentioned this room, and the room appeared as though it had been undisturbed for a long time. This room would be pretty redundant, and the TARDIS surely would've reorganised the books onto the shelves, right? With that in mind, you re-entered the room, curiosity brimming in your eyes as you notice the book in the middle of the floor. It's TARDIS blue cover stood out like a sore thumb against the crimson carpet, regardless of how dark the room was. As you knelt to pick up the obscure book, the ceiling light flickered on.

"History of the Time Lords: All you need to know." You mumbled as you read. You habitually flip the book in your hands to read the blurb, the grey foiled text read, "From humble beginnings to the vicious politics of the time war, here is everything you need to know about the history of our civilisation." You checked to see if there is a contents page, of which there is. None of the chapters stood out, except for perhaps, Gallifrey Falls. It clicked in your mind that Gallifreyan must equate to Time Lord, at least to some extent. The Doctor had referred to himself as the last Time Lord.

You flip to the chapter and settle down on the floor, considering you may be there for some time.

And by god, you were. You read about everything from the potential causes, to the effects on the rest of the universe. What you paid the most attention to, however, was the Doctors' involvement. For the most part, he stayed out of the war, asides from helping the victims. But whoever had "restored" him, had pinned the continuing deaths on the Doctor and his lack of involvement, which had finally made him give in. The Doctor fought for literal decades on the front line.

No wonder he didn't want to talk about it.

You read on about the sacrifices he made and the Daleks. They always survived, no matter what he did. By the time you had wrapped up two or three chapters, you had worked yourself up. Even if you're not the emotional sort, just the thought of the Doctor having to go through all of that brought you to tears. You kept imagining the burden he must be carrying, keeping from you and Amy. The decisions he has made.

You stood up, the book still in your hands, and make your way back to where you had left the Doctor.

Upon re-entering that section of the library, it took you a moment to realise that your companion no longer huddled in the armchair. There was no trace of him. You hoped he had withdrawn to his room, and took a step towards his chair. "Y/n!" A hand landed on your shoulder. You recoiled, whirling around to face the weary-eyed Doctor, pulling the large book to your chest, "There-... what's up?" "Nothing, I-I just thought you had gone to your room, is all. You scared me." You exhale a sigh of relief, gently laughing as you spoke. "What have you got there?" He scrutinised inquisitively, eyes pinned on the book you were gripping so tightly. "Oh, It's a book," The Doctor raised a brow at you and rolled his eyes, a smile on his cheeks, and you thoughtlessly added an, "Well, of course, it is, uh, it fell off a shelf in a sort of study room- I heard it and went to see what it was." You handed the book over sheepishly. It wasn't your book to keep, after all. You didn't want to admit it, but a part of you didn't want to lie to the Doctor, either.

He shifted the book about until he could comfortably read it; the moment his eyes darted back up to you, eyebrows curved upwards, smile extinct, you could've sworn something shattered behind his eyes. Noticing this, you couldn't stop yourself from clarifying, "I, I did read a bit of it, quite a lot actually- out of curiosity. Look, I'm, I'm so sorry. I didn't realise when I kept asking you about Gallifrey, and the war- if I'd known the half of it-" You paused, taking a deep breath and looking into his eyes, "Look, If you want me to forget about this, that's cool- I, erm, can just pretend this never happened, and I'll make sure to keep Amy/Donna off your ass about it," "Humans, you're so," The Doctor mutters exasperatedly, gesturing outwards with his hands, before sighing, he puts his hands on your shoulders, squeezing gently, "You know, Y/n. You don't have to stay. I get it, I really do. I killed my entire species, nothing co-" "Doctor. You cannot honestly tell me that it is your fault. I won't sit here and listen to you take the blame for something you avidly tried to avoid. From what I read, you tried to help- you swore to help, to make up for something out of your control," You rest your hands on his upper arm, shaking him gently as you speak, "You did your best, you did what you thought was the right thing, and most importantly, you saved the whole of time and space, again, from the Daleks and the Time Lords." The Doctor hesitated, lips pursing as he looked away. You offer him a hug, and he quickly accepts, his arms wrapping around your waist. You try your very best to make it the best hug you've ever given. You hold him firmly and flatten the back of his hair soothingly as you speak, "Treat yourself the way you'd treat someone else, you know? I know it's been a long time, but I need you to know that I'm not leaving you for doing the right thing." The Doctor took a shaky breath, "Yeah. Thank you." He breathily laughed, "I wish I had met you sooner." You smiled, "Well the day you figure out how, I will have prepared some very, strong words for you." He hummed in affirmation into your shoulder, "I'll have to work on that." The two of you just stood there for a bit, hugging each other. You impulsively touch a kiss against the Doctors temple as the two of you separate.

#doctor who x reader #the doctor x reader #eleventh doctor x reader #11th doctor x reader #tenth doctor x reader #10th doctor x reader #fluff #angst #newwho #doctor who library #doctor who

337 notes · View notes

weelittleweasley · 3 years

Text

what once was mine (g.w.)

prompt as requested by anon: the breakup between you and george weasley was abrupt and shocking. but after you had healed from it, you started dating an unlikely match, draco malfoy. when george hears of your new partner, he decides to send a letter, not to you, but to draco explaining some things.

pairing: george weasley x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of death, depression, angst

word count: 4.7k

a/n: i literally took this prompt and fucking SPRINTED with it. i’m so sorry i literally RAN WITH IT and i am very very proud of it. an anon told me that they found this request on here from another blog. if anyone knows whos idea this was originally and put it out there, please let me know so i can give them the credit they deserve!

It was after the war and George was in shambles. Fred, his brother, his twin, his business partner, his best friend, was dead. The image of his dead brother’s body haunted his mind when he closed his eyes. George refused to believe he was gone for good. Two days ago he saw him sitting on the couch of their childhood home, there was no way that he just disappeared like that. It wasn’t fair. The world was playing a cruel joke on him. Was it karma? Was he paying the price for action he didn’t know he committed? Why Fred?

George just stood in what once was their shared flat in the kitchen, leaning over the kitchen island, head in his hands. Pain and sadness possessed his chest as he tried to not cry for surely the hundredth time that day. Crying wasn’t helping him; it was just making him more sad. George sat up and took a look around their flat, Fred’s things still untouched from the last time he was in the flat. George was afraid to move it, thinking that Fred put those things in those places for a reason and if George touched them or moved them, it would disrupt something. He wished he could freeze time and look at the apartment as it was in this moment, Fred and his thing’s in the apartment, sprawled about the couch and table. A picture of Fred and George in front of the joke shoppe when it first opened, both hugging each other and smiling. All of their dreams came true that day. If he only knew it would be stripped from them a few years later. What a cruel, cruel world.

His thoughts were interrupted when there were three light knocks on the door. “Georgie? It’s me...please let me in,” your sweet voice called from outside. George’s heart leaped at the sound of your voice and his eyes filled with tears. He knew what he had to do, but he didn’t want to do it. He didn’t have the strength to do it.

With a sigh, he walked to the door and opened it up to reveal you there, eyes soft when they looked at George. Your heart broke at the sight of George. He was destroyed. “Darling,” you whisper as you look at him. George just gives you a sad smile before motioning for you to come in.

As George closed the door, you notice that the apartment hadn’t changed one bit since he left it last. You sigh, knowing George too well. “I’m going to move back home for a while to live with Mum and Dad and my siblings for a while. We all need each other right now,” George rubs his face as your heart shatters. You knew how much having his own place, running the joke shoppe, and living the life he planned meant to him. Now since his world has shattered, his dreams had to be paused.

“Of course,” you shake your head, understanding completely. “And you know you can stay with me if you want as well. My door is always open for you, George.” George’s heart breaks at your words as he gulps, trying to force his tears away. “I want you to take care of yourself...I love you, George. I always have and I always will.”

George takes a deep breath in and closes his eyes, rubbing his face before running his hands through his hair. “(Y/N), we should talk about all of this,” George tries to start. There was no easy way to word this. There was no easy way to do this. There was no way that George could do this and keep you in his life. It was one or the other.

When George says this, your heart immediately sinks. Those words strung together only meant one thing and you weren’t ready for that. Even though George was going through the unimaginable, you were also suffering. You lost family and friends of your own and George was the only stable thing in your life right now. It was selfish, but right now, you need George to help you through this and you knew he needed you too. This was all true. “George, please, don’t,” you speak, voice cracking, tears filling your eyes.

The sight of you made George feel weak. He turned away to not look at his love crying. This all was so painful. “We need to break up. We both need to take time for ourselves. To heal,” George tries to rationalize with you. You let a sob escape your lips as you cover your mouth to muffle them. George sneaks a look at you and he instantly hates what he said. Your eyes were flooded with tears as they spilled over and streamed down your cheeks. “I am damaged goods right now. I can’t let that effect you.”

“I want to be there for you,” you whisper to George. “I want to help you through this. I want to be someone that you can rely on like you have all these years. Why are you letting me go now when we need each other most?” you grab his hands, holding them close to your heart. George steps closer to you, pressing his body into yours and you cry into his chest. He wraps his arms around you tightly, as if to not let you go when that’s exactly what he was doing.

George sniffles, “Because I don’t want you to see me enter a dark place. I know it’s bound to happen. But I don’t want you to see me like that. I’m scared that once you do, that’s all you’ll see me as.”

You look up at the tall man. He had grown up before your eyes. George always had a childlike mysticism and a young heart. But this war made him realize that he wasn’t invincible. He wasn’t a student at Hogwarts like he was years prior. George was a man. “I will never think of you like that. I will always think of you as the love of my life,” you tell him as you brush away George’s tears, him leaning into your touch. “But I understand if you need time. If that’s what you need, I respect your wishes.”

The two of you had let each other go and that was the icing on the cake. You didn’t hold back anymore. You let the sob rake through your body, shaking you as George held onto you tightly, crying silently as the two of you held onto each other for dear life. Your face was hot with tears and your stomach felt this sick. This was never your plan. You had such big plans. George had promised marriage months ago after the war was over. He had promised to whisk you away from your normal life and give you a life you had dreamed of. George wanted to take you around the world, showing you the beauty of it. But those plans were now empty promises. Hollow shells of what could have been.

George looks at you, pulling your face in his hands. “We will be alright. I promise you,” he speaks passionately. “If we can survive a war, we can survive this.” You breathe in jagged breaths. “You are going to live a life that is much better than I could have ever given you.”

“Don’t you dare say that,” you sob.

George shakes his head, “I want you to find someone who can give you the world. I have no doubt that you will find that person and live a very happy life.”

Pushing his hands away from your face lightly, you speak, “No matter who I find, I will never love them like I love you.” George’s heart breaks. “I will never love or care for someone as fiercely as I do for you, George Weasley. That will never change. I will never stop loving you.”

“And I will never stop loving you,” George repeats, pressing your foreheads together. “You will always be mine.”

“And you will always be mine,” you promise him.

-----------

A year had past and much had changed.

You had a job now as a Healer, taking care of the sick and hurt. Your job let you help people like you’ve always wanted. It was stressful, but the amount of joy it brought you was immeasurable. Your job allowed you to live comfortably in a new flat in the heart of London, overlooking the busy city.

The biggest change was who came into your life. After you and George’s split, you spent a lot of your time as a single woman, six months, focusing on your career and personal goals. You worked hard and most times, worked to distract yourself from the fact that you missed George Weasley something fierce. But as you distracted yourself, you didn’t expect to meet someone new. Rather, re-meet someone.

Seeing Draco Malfoy again was like meeting a whole new person. Draco had turned over a new leaf completely. He was kinder and more gentle. He claimed to have seen the error of his ways when he was a teenager in Hogwarts and had sworn to be a better person after the war when he saw how much hurt and pain his family had put others in. Draco now worked as a Healer like you did at St. Mungo’s.

What you didn’t expect most of all was to fall in love with Draco. It took you both a while to say something to the other in fear that the other person felt differently. But after a long shift at work and a glass of wine, you both had confessed your feelings to the other. From that moment on, you and Draco’s relationship progressed quickly. Within weeks, you and Draco lived in a new flat, bigger and better than your last in a beautiful part of London. Draco spoiled you tremendously with material things and beautiful vacations. When you had told Draco your dream was to travel the world, he had booked flights everywhere. Throughout Europe to America to Asia, everywhere, you just say the word. Life felt like a dream. Draco gave you everything that you could ever ask for; love, stability, and happiness.

You loved Draco immensely; it hurt your heart how you loved him. However, there was still a piece of your heart that belonged to that red headed boy. You thought of George Weasley often. How was he? Was he better? Is he happy now? Did he find someone new? Did he make them happy? Did they make him happy? But before you got sentimental, you often cast those thoughts from your mind.

After another six months of dating Draco, you found yourself wearing a large diamond ring on your left ring finger. You were engaged. Draco had done it when you were in Paris on vacation. You told him you didn’t want a huge romantic gesture, but that still didn’t stop Draco. You were on a park in a small park, but down the path, there were small lights in trees, a small speaker that played your favorite song, and rose petals everywhere that spelt out, Marry Me. You said yes before Draco could even say anything, jumping on him, covering his face in kisses. You were getting married to your love.

The news of your engagement spread very quickly. You wanted everyone to know that you were happy and in love with Draco. Not to mention, you wanted to get married right away. There was no time to waste. Why wait if you were so certain that you both loved each other and wanted to spend eternity together?

Draco laughed as you happily wrote and send out save the dates to your family and friends. “Darling,” he chuckled. “We’ve been engaged for two weeks! You’re sending out invitations already?”

He sat next to you on the couch, placing a chaste kiss to your cheek. “It’s not an invitation, just a save the date,” you roll your eyes. “Invitations are being send out in another week,” you speak, making Draco laugh. “I just don’t want to waste time. I want to get our lives started as husband and wife as soon as possible.”

“That sounds perfect to me,” he smiles as you kiss his lips gently.

You continue to seal envelopes and send out save the dates to everyone. And by everyone, you meant everyone.

--------

Molly Weasley stood in the kitchen, cooking an early dinner for her family as the rest of the Weasley family was scattered throughout the house. Ron and Ginny argued over quidditch as they usually did on nights like this, Harry laughing as he watched his best friend and new wife arguing over the beloved sport. Hermione helped Molly cut vegetables in the kitchen while George and Arthur fixed a leak in the sink upstairs.

Sounds of cacophony filled the house, but halted when an owl flew through the window, dropping an envelope in Molly Weasley’s house. “What’s that?” Ron asked.

“Dunno,” said Molly. “It’s addressed to all of us.” She shows her family the ivory envelope that has Weasley Family written in cursive. Molly opens up the message and starts to read it out to herself. “Oh my stars!”

Hermione looks over Molly’s shoulder and reads the letter and gasps, “She’s getting married!” Hermione giggles as she looks to Molly who beams.

“Hello? Who is getting married? Would you mind sharing?” Ron asks, not liking being left out of the merriment. Molly hands him the invitation as Ron reads it out to the rest of the group. “Dear Weasley Family and Potter,” Ron laughs as Harry rolls his eyes. “Please save the date. On the fourteenth of May at 6pm sharp, join us for the wedding of (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and Draco Malfoy.” Everyone’s eyes widen when Ron finished reading. “Bloody hell.”

Ginny looks to Harry, “I didn’t that their relationship was that serious.” Harry shrugs, not knowing the answer either. When Draco told Harry that you two were seeing other, he didn’t think much of it. No reflection on either of you, but Harry assumed that you would always find your way back to George.

Ron scoffs, “You didn’t think it was that serious? I didn’t know they were together!” Hermione rolls her eyes. “You knew?! You didn’t tell me!”

Hermione defends herself, “What do you mean? We had them over for dinner a few months ago! What did you think they were? Just friends living together?”

Ron rolls his eyes and leans back in his chair, knowing that he was in the wrong. “Well, that’s beside the point. I’m glad they’re happy. They deserve it after everything they have been though.”

“Agreed. A wedding! How exciting!” Hermione gushes as Molly smiles beside her.

“Whose getting married?” George’s voice calls out as he walks down the stairs, Arthur not far behind.

Everyone freezes when they see George, not knowing who should break the news that the girl he was in love with months ago was getting married. Ron immediately leaves the room, not wanting anything to do with the situation, Harry following suit. Molly, Ginny, and Hermione all look at each other, silently deciding who should tell him. “Um,” Ginny starts. “We received a letter. That, um, Draco Malfoy is getting married.”

George nods his head, “That’s good news. I hope the bloke is well. Who is the poor gal getting married to him?”

Ginny gulps and looks to her mother to do the hard part. Molly sighs and looks at her son. “Draco is marrying (Y/N), George. They’re getting married on the 14th of May,” Molly hands him the invitation that rests on the coffee table.

George’s heart sinks to his stomach and his face goes pale. There was no way that this was happening. Sure, you two had broken up a while back, but that didn’t mean that George was over you. George missed you with every passing moment, his heart yearning for you, your gaze, your touch. He read the invite feverishly, running his fingers over what was clearly your penmanship. “May 14th? That’s in two weeks,” he looks to his mother who looks at him sadly. George looks back at the invite. “And she invited all of us? She invited me?”

Everyone just looks at each other, not knowing what to say. Ginny sighs, “I’m so sorry, Georgie.”

He nods his head, “Yeah, me too. Excuse me.” George drops the invitation and walks up the stairs to his room. It was at times like this where he wished Fred was here to comfort him. Fred would know exactly what to say or what to do. But Fred wasn’t here.

George laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering how you could fall in love so fast and get married in the blink of an eye. You and George were together for four years. You and Draco were together for six months. He didn’t know you like George did. He didn’t know you to the extent that George did. George knew everything about you; what you loved, what you hated, what made you tick, what kept you up at night. And that’s when it hit him.

George sprung from his bed and to his desk, grabbing a piece of parchment and his quill and began.

----------

Draco sat next to you in bed as you read quietly to yourselves when there was a tap at the window in the next room. “I’ll get it, love,” Draco said, rising from the bed. You smiled at your fiancee as he left the room to check on what was going on.

In the living room, an owl perched on the window sill with a letter in his mouth. “Thank you,” Draco smiled at the owl as it shook its head before flying away. Draco looks at the letter and sees his name on the red envelope. Draco slowly opened the envelope to see a folded up piece of parchment. As he unfolded it, he began to read the contents of the letter.

Malfoy,

First off, I would like to offer my congratulations to you on your engagement to (Y/N). I can only imagine that you two are scrambling to get the wedding ready for the next week. But enjoy it, cause you only have one wedding day.

I know that my timing is off, but I decided I better do it now rather than never do it at all. It’s odd, I know, but this will not only help me get her out of my mind, but help you when you need it most.

(Y/N) is the most special woman in the world. I’m sure you know that, but in case you forgot, I’m here to remind you that you have the best woman who will soon be your wife. Something I dreamed of doing one day.

That being said, your time with her has been short in comparison to the times that we shared and here are some things that I have learned about her that I thought I should share.

When she is upset, give her space. She needs time to breathe and be with her thoughts before she tells you about them. Just give her time and space and she’ll eventually come around to you and ask you for your company. When she does, make sure you have a hot cup of tea ready and a blanket. She likes to cuddle and needs something warm. Listen to what she says and promise that you’ll be there for her. After you two talk, she’ll probably ask to watch a movie of some kind. Put on a romantic movie. She’ll tell you she doesn’t like them, but she does. She has a couple of favorites, too.

When she is angry, let her take it out. If she keeps in all bundled in, she’ll explode one day without knowing it. Tell her it’s okay to scream or yell or punch a pillow. She’ll calm down after a few minutes and take a nap. Make sure you put socks on her feet because they usually get cold.

(Y/N) doesn’t like it when she’s alone, so if you are leaving for a trip, make sure she has a companion that can check up on her or hang out with her. If you’re gone on a trip, bring her back one of those cheap keychains. She collects them. She’ll like it. Especially if it has her name on it, too.

(Y/N) loves black tea and green tea. She takes the black with milk and honey and the green tea plain. Don’t let her drink more than two cups of coffee a day or else she gets too wired. Her favorite flavour of ice cream is mint chocolate chip, but she won’t reject any flavour.

If you go to the beach, stay until sundown. She likes to watch the sunset fade into the horizon and wrap herself in the blanket. It’s a tradition she and her father used to do when she was a child. She loves the beach, but hates the sand. Strange, I know, but I always thought it was charming.

She usually forget to put a new roll of toilet paper on the hanger when the other is finished, so be mindful of that. It’ll drive you mad after a few months, but you’ll get used to it. And she also has a favorite brand of body wash. It smells of rose and vanilla and you can only get it at one shoppe in the city. I forget the brand name, but it comes in purple packaging. Buy her that, she runs out of it often.

Dance with her. Please. She always complained that I never slow danced with her enough. I was always too silly for her. But she loves to slow dance. Put on the radio and dance with her. It doesn’t matter where you are. But dance with her. I don’t care who is watching. Neither does she. Just dance with her and make her feel like you are the only one watching her.

I should have told her that I loved her more. I told her every day, but even that wasn’t enough. Tell her every moment that you can, even if it annoys her. Make her feel loved. Let her know she is loved. Because, Godric, she deserves to be loved. She is brilliant. She is the moon, the star, and the whole damned sky. And you better love her better than I have ever loved her. Or else she’ll slip through your fingertips and you won’t even notice until she’s gone.

I don’t want to lie and say that I am happy about your engagement, but I will be happy if she’s happy. Please treat her the way she deserves to be treated. Love her with every fiber, every cell within you. And, for the love of Godric, don’t let her go like I did.

I don’t know if I’ll be in attendance to the wedding, but if I don’t show up, tell her that she looks beautiful for me. I know she will. Even if I am there, tell her is beautiful. Tell her she is beautiful each time someone else says it. It’s her special day.

Best of luck to the both of you. I wish you every happiness together and I hope you live long lives together. Take care of the girl who used to be mine.

Warmly,

George Weasley

As Draco finishes reading the letter, he isn’t angry. He isn’t sad. He is happy to know that there is someone else out there who wants the absolute best for his future wife. Draco smiles at the letter and sighs, “Thank you, George. I’ll do my best.” Draco then folds the letter and tucks it away in his pocket. Draco thinks to himself about how hard it must have been for George when he heard the news of Draco and (Y/N)’s engagement, but he dismisses the thought after realizing that (Y/N) was probably wondering where he was.

Draco walks back into the bedroom and you look at your future husband with a smile. “Was it an owl?” you ask as Draco nods. “From who?”

Draco smiles, “An old friend. Wishing us lots of love and luck in our marriage.”

“How kind,” you beam. “Are they coming to the wedding?”

“I don’t know,” Draco shrugs, genuinely not knowing the answer. You furrow your brows, confused at the answer given. “It’s not important though, darling. I’ve taken care of it.”

You nod your head gently and close your book as you watch Draco change for bed. He takes off his pants shirt before walking into the bathroom, closing the door behind him as you hear the shower run.

Impulsively, you spring to your feet and grab Draco’s pants, digging into the contents of his pockets, knowing your fiancee well enough to know that he stuffed the letter in there. In his right pocket, there is parchment and you pull it out, feverishly pulling out the letter and opening it up.

You scan the paper and you feel your heart sink as you recognize the writing. “George,” you whisper as tears fill your eyes. You read his words and your mind reels and goes fuzzy. It was obvious that George still loved you after all this time. It was evident in your words. Every word written with care and love that radiated into your soul. “My George,” you whisper as a tear rolls down your cheek as you stroke the paper.

The sound of the shower stops and you shove the letter back into Draco’s pants, springing back into the bed, and wiping away your tears as if nothing happened. Draco emerges with fresh pajamas and wet hair. “Bedtime?” Draco asks with a soft smile. You nod gently as Draco climbs into bed with you. “I love you, darling. So much. I can’t wait to be yours and you to be mine forever.”

“I love you, too, Draco.”

Draco smiles and turns off the light, wrapping his arm around your waist as you sit in bed, thinking of George’s words on that parchment. He still loved you. You were engaged to another. Your heart loved Draco. But your heart belonged to George. Was that possible? It had to be, this feeling in your chest when you thought of George just confirmed it.

You think of that last night with George when you broke up, crying in his arms. His words haunting you, “I will never stop loving you. You will always be mine.” How his words rang true. You did belong to him. If only things were different. You could run to George and tell him you still loved him. That the life you once had you wanted back. How you were still his and always would be until death do you both part.

But the thought of leaving Draco made your stomach churn and your heart ache. Draco found you and picked you up when you were low and showed you a second chance at love. He gave you everything you wanted. Love, a home, stability, kindness, and strength. Draco was your everything. Your sun and moon. And you knew it rang true for him. The ring on your finger proved it.

With a sigh, you close your eyes and tune out your thoughts. What was in the past was in the past. It was over. It was time for something new and that something new was Draco. Even though you loved Draco, a piece of you would be attached to George. And that would be enough.

On the other hand, George laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering if Draco even read his letter. If he showed it to you. Or if he kept it a secret. What was happening in London? All questions George would never get the answer to. Sighing, George spoke to himself, “It’s over, George. It’s done. The battle has been fought and you lost. Time to move on.”

And so you both did.

#george weasley imagine #george weasley #Fred and George #george weasley x #george weasley x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasley x reader imagine #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you #Harry Potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfic #Harry Potter Smut #george imagine #george weasley angst

380 notes · View notes

darthkruge · 3 years

Note

Anakin taking care of you while you’re sick 👉👈

Anakin Skywalker x Sick!Reader Headcanons

Warnings: Sickness, mentions of vomiting but nothing detailed

Words: 1.5k

A/N: Anon, I hope you feel better if you’re sick!! Also so many of my friends aren’t feeling well, either! I know @beskar-tano and @artiza-n have been feeling shitty and @buckysbeloved and @anakinlove were feeling a little worse for wear, too, if I remember correctly. Wishing all of y’all (+ anyone else who might be feeling under the weather) fast recoveries!!

gif credit

Let me start this off by saying that Anakin does not get grossed out. He’s surrounded by dying soldiers everyday and when they’re deep on missions? Safe to say they don’t always have access to a nice refresher. So if you ever try and say you’re disgusting or he can’t see you because you feel too gross, he’s having none of that.

First, he reassures you that you’re beautiful. And it’s true, too. You could literally be on death’s door and Anakin would still think you’re the most gorgeous person he’s ever seen. And second, he’s just completely unphased.

He will literally stay by your side the entire time until you feel better and then for at least a good 48 hours afterward, wanting to make sure you’re back to your normal self.

The only time he’d leave is if you asked him to. He knows that sometimes you just feel really shitty and need to be alone. Most of all, he wants you to be comfortable. But if you do ask him to leave, he keeps close. He won’t go on missions and keeps his commlink on him at all times, just in case you need anything. And if he doesn’t hear from you in a while, he checks in to make sure you’re okay.

If you’re just being stubborn and/or it’s difficult for you to accept help even though you desperately want it, he can see through that. He knows you so well, he can tell if you actually want space or if you just don’t know how to ask for his comfort. And if it’s the latter, he gives you really easy outs. He’ll put it on him, saying “I’d feel a lot better if I was here, my love. I want to make sure you’re okay, is that alright?”

If you have a favorite piece of his clothing, he lets you wear it. This is not just when you’re sick, either. But if you’re not feeling great, he makes extra sure to wash it if it's not already clean and brings it over so you can have it.

Anakin gets nervous when you’re sick; he feels helpless and you’re normally so strong and now you’re weak and in pain and there’s nothing he can do to make it go away. To compensate, he’s constantly doing stuff for you. It helps him keep busy and he feels like he’s helping you, so it’s a natural solution.

Will bring you absolutely anything you ask for. And if you say you’re fine and that you don’t need anything, he’ll probably still bring you stuff. He makes sure you’re always stocked up with tissues, food, water, medicine, blankets, etc.

I headcanon Anakin as a good cook, at least with a few core recipes. One of the recipes he made sure to memorize is a really good soup. He asked you what your favorite one was one time randomly after you’d been dating for about a month because he wanted to file it away in his brain for whenever you’re sick. And now as soon as you give even one cough or sniffle, you better believe he’ll make it for you.

He basically babies you the entire time. You’re not lifting a finger until the sickness goes away. He’ll bring stuff to you or, if you’re cuddling with him, he floats it over with the Force. And if you absolutely need to go somewhere, he carries you.

He’ll rub your back or anywhere else you might be feeling achy. I’ve talked about it before and I shall reiterate: Anakin is amazing at massages. He uses his warm, flesh hand first to start to work into your muscles, getting them ready before using his metal hand to apply a bit more pressure and work out the knots.

If you’re throwing up, he’s in the refresher with you. He rubs your back and pulls your hair out of your face, giving you soft encouragement the whole time. “Get it out, it’s alright. You’re gonna be just fine, you’ll feel better afterward, okay? You just need to get it out of your system, love.” It’s quite soothing, especially if you’re the kind of person who hates vomiting.

Afterward, he knows that you might be feeling really clammy and weak. If you want, he’ll gently wash your skin to get the sweat off. He’ll let you lean into him as you brush your teeth or, honestly, he’s fine doing that for you, too.

Anakin will wait with you on the cold, tile floor for as long as you need. As soon as you feel okay enough to move or you fall asleep, he scoops you into his arms and carries you back to bed.

And if you’re throwing up at night or just overall feeling too sick to sleep, he stays up with you. He’s not going to let you be alone.

He’ll also tell you stories or just talk to you about whatever comes to mind to distract you. He doesn’t want you to spend all day just thinking about how horrible you feel so he tries to take your mind off it and entertain you whenever possible.

Once, when Anakin was making you some food in the kitchen, you decided to try and get up and go to the refresher alone. You made it a few steps before you were hit with an overwhelming wave of dizziness and lightheadedness and just quietly called Anakin’s name, unsure if he would even hear you. It was practically a reflex. But he did and he ran over immediately, bracing you against him to steady yourself as he called a chair over to him with the Force, firmly sitting you down.

He was so terrified when he saw your face draining of color and your body begin to crumple to the floor, he just hugged you and kissed the top of your head. He asked, “Why did you do that?! What would have happened if I didn’t hear you?!”

“I just… you’ve done so much for me and you were already making me food and I don’t know I thought I could do it…” You answer lamely, tears pricking in your eyes as you realize not only how flawed your logic is, but also that you made him worry.

Anakin notices and quickly hushes you. “It’s okay, I’m not mad. Just scared me, that’s all. But angel we’ve talked about this! I want to help you, I like that. And besides, if you’d fallen and cracked your head open you’d need a lot more help than a ride to the refresher, huh?”

You just nod against him and pull him closer to you. Because you’re sitting, he normally stands between your thighs and you hug his waist, pressing your face into his middle. He’ll hunch over a bit, rubbing up and down your back and your arms while pressing kisses to the top of your head.

If your throat is sore and it hurts to talk, you’re not talking. Anakin actually has a little fun with this one. Don’t get me wrong, he hates that you’re in pain, but he likes to tease you a bit. He’ll be like “Y/N, do you think I should swap Obi-Wan’s face wash with shampoo?” and you’re shaking your head but he just says “Oh, I guess I can’t hear any objections...”

But then you’ll croak out a “Anakin, no!” And he’s immediately “Shh! Don’t talk, you'll hurt your vocal chords!! I wouldn’t have done it anyway!! Stop talking!! Not until you feel better!!”

If you have a headache, he’ll let you rest your head in his lap. He uses the Force to close the blinds and turn off the lights and makes sure to talk in an extra quiet tone. He’s calmly petting your hair with his flesh hand while massaging your scalp with the metal one. He’ll also massage your temples, doing so until you feel enough relief to sleep.

He also constantly brings you cold compresses for your forehead, especially if you’re feverish. He gets you to lay down in bed and then he’ll sit beside you, one hand holding the compress to you and the other gently tracing patterns on your skin.

Sometimes, you’re sick and emotional and the pain is really overwhelming. He gets this and if crying is going to help you, he wants you to. He’ll hold you in his arms, still, not wanting to worsen any of the symptoms by rocking you. And he’s so encouraging.

“Let it out, my love. There you go, it’s okay. I know it hurts, I know,” He’ll coo, “Baby I know, I’m so sorry. I’ve got you, you can cry, it’s okay.”

And once you’re done he continues to hold you, cuddling you for the rest of the day.

Also, Anakin will literally hold and kiss you the entire time. Mans is not worried about catching anything from you. And if you ever say “No, Ani, you’ll get sick!!” He just “no I won’t”

But, if you’re really serious, he’ll refrain from kissing your lips. That’s okay, though! More forehead and top of the head kisses for you <3

He’s just really accommodating and kind. He hates seeing you sick and in pain and just wants to shower you with love and care and affection until it goes away.

-----

the link to join my taglist is in my pinned! if you would like to be taken off, dm me!

permanent tags:

@saltybreaddream @buckysbeloved @lolquarth @sodaoverstars @artiza-n @poesflygirl

anakin tags:

@anakinswhore @kennedywxlsh @coldlilheart @adamgetawaydriver @chokemeanakin @gayidioot @starwars-whore @katelynnwrites @haydens-moles @serpntines @anakinlove @rowley-with-ackerman @dexthtoyounglings @babykinskywalker @cluelessgurl @april-showers-and-flowers @ungodiys @beiroviski @captainshazamerica @alyssa-skywalker @mystic-writings @thejediuniverse @anakinravageme @cafeoiogy @dracowars @idkyouu1800c3 @luminara123

304 notes · View notes

pugleighimagines · 4 years

Text

The Truth- Kol Mikaelson

Requested By- fantastic-fans

Request: Can you do a kol x reader where reader doesn’t know kol is a vamp and one night she’s out with her friends and catches him having a snack

A/N- Thank you so much for my first request! I hope you like and it’s kind of what you expected :D

You were chilling at the Mystic Grill with Matt, much to Matt’s dismay seeing as he was constantly working there. However you both needed to catch up with each other, as you were constantly busy with your studies and commitments to school. You and Matt were laughing at each other’s jokes before Matt brought up the topic of the Mikaelsons. The Mikaelson’s had been in town for a few months now, you bumped into Kol right here at the Grill, literally bumped into each other. You were waving goodbye to a friend and not looking where you were going when you were knocked to the ground. Kol at first had a look of annoyance before he looked down at you where his demeanor suddenly changed. You noticed his face soften and he smirked making you blush and feel flustered. You sighed and picked yourself up, dusting yourself down before apologising for not watching where you were going. He took your hand and placed a delicate kiss on the back before introducing himself. You remembered thinking how sweet yet old fashioned. From then on you’d been invited to the ball, where you danced with him all night and spoke about your travels around the world. You’d seen each other in the Grill, where Kol made it his mission to flirt with you, you just couldn’t help but notice everyone else’s disgust especially Damon, Stefan and Elena’s. You liked Kol, and you certainly weren't going to let anyone stop your chance at happiness. You were well aware of Matt’s opinion on them so you rolled your eyes and dramatically flopped your head onto the bar gently knowing you were going to be in for a fun conversation making Matt chuckle.

“They’re no good y/n. If he wants something to do with you he definitely has an agenda” Matt stated, raising his eyebrows and thinning his lips as if he disapproved.

“Wow Matt, so no one can just be interested in me cause they like me?” You replied, lifting your head up and crossing your arms over your chest.

“That’s not what I’m saying, It’s just them. You’ll probably become…” Matt paused mid sentence and swiveled in his chair so he was now facing the bar.

“Become what?” You asked, grabbing Matt’s shoulder and turning him back to face you. You wore a look of confusion but he just shook his head and continued to drink.

“Matt, I really like him. I know he can be arrogant and smug but when we’re alone he’s kinda romantic and caring. He’s different”

“You can say that again” Matt mumbled making a snide comment. You laughed as you playfully pushed Matt’s side asking him to tell you what he just said. But he continued to shake his head as you continued to be playful. That stopped as soon as you saw Kol standing by the door watching you and Matt laughing and teasing each other. You waved at Kol but he was stone in the face, he clearly didn’t like watching you being playful with someone else. Matt had followed your gaze as you stopped joking with him to notice you staring at Kol. Kol had quickly turned back and exited the Grill. You jumped off your seat ready to follow him, Matt held your wrist pleading with you not to go. Shrugging Matt off, you swifty exited the Grill.

It was a cold night so your arms were folded over your chest trying to make some sort of warmth. Your eyes scanned everywhere as you walked keeping an eye out for Kol. You walked behind the back of the Grill, your eyes widened and you gulped as you witnessed another human chomping on the neck of a girl as they leaned against a wall. The girl just stood there, no screaming, nothing. You decided to sneak up on them to help save this girl, it wasn’t until you got closer that you noticed the clothes, the outline of the body and the facial features. It was Kol. You gasped loudly, placing your hand over your mouth, tears began to fester in your eyes as you stood there, frozen in shock. Kol turned to face you as he heard you gasp, he let go of the girl who flopped to the floor. Blood dripped from his mouth, veins around his eyes pumped, and two sharp teeth hung from his gums. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, you were instantly frightened seeing Kol this way. He didn’t look charming or insanely handsome anymore, he looked like a monster.

“Kol, your face” You stammered trying to get your words out. Kol began to approach you but you stepped back, shaking your head.

“Please don’t hurt me” You pleaded before you found yourself backed up against a wall. You closed your eyes and hissed at the pain of striking the stone wall, as you opened your eyes Kol was standing right in front of you. Within seconds he’d caught up to you, his face was normal, except from the blood staining his chin. He rested his hands on your cheeks, his face was full of sadness as he searched your eyes hoping to find anything other than fear.

“I’m not going to hurt you love.” You continued to cower, Kol’s touch and presence had been your safe space for the past few months and now you were terrified at the thought of Kol being near you.

“What are you?” tears began to stream from your eyes, you tried to move away but Kol’s strength over powered you by a ton. Kol leaned into your neck, his breathing made you shiver, one part of you felt lustful, you were attracted to Kol that was until you remembered what you’d witnessed seconds ago. Kol whispered something in your ear before flashing away. You couldn’t believe it as you watch Kol vanish into thin air, he’d literally gone. You stood in silence trying to comprehend what had happened, a million thoughts rushed through your head but only one kept screaming at you. Vampire. You pulled yourself together, wiping away any tears and began your walk home.

As soon as you arrived home you rushed up the stairs to your room, you threw open your curtains and he was standing there on your balcony. You cautiously turned the key to the doors leading to your balcony, never taking your eyes off him. He too looked at you, desperation seemed to be on his face, desperation for forgiveness, desperation for your affection. You opened the doors and backed away instantly, allowing a comfortable space between you.

“Don’t worry I can’t come in unless you invite me in”

“What?”

“Let’s just say it’s part of the package deal” Kol sighed with a little smirk.

“Kol I saw you biting into some poor girl’s neck, like she was a snack, she didn’t scream. And, your face you were-” you were overwhelmed as you tried to get your words out.

“Ugly… I know not my best look, I have to admit .” Kol’s English accent made him all the more charming to you even right now when all you could picture was his face when you caught him. You sat on the edge of your bed running your hands through your hair.

“They’re real aren’t they?” You asked, looking to Kol for an answer. You desperately wanted him to tell you no but the single nod of his head answered your question.

“1000 years ago my mother cast a spell and turned all her children into vampires. We’re the original vampire’s” Kol began to tell you the rest of his story from the balcony as you remained on the bed. You were hooked with every word he spoke, the fact that mystical beings existed rattled your brain yet the way Kol told it had you hanging on every second of the way. Kol informed you of Damon and Stefan also being vampires and what Klaus’ motives really were.

“Can I come in now? I’ve kinda sat out here for an hour now, If i wanted to hurt you do you not think I would have done it months ago?” You slowly nodded in response, and watched as Kol tested the house by slowly letting one foot creep in, as soon as that foot hit the ground he walked in. He looked around your bedroom, he took in the smell of your perfume that lingered in the air. He picked up a photo that sat on your bedside table, it was a picture of you, Elena, Caroline and Bonnie.

“You’re so beautiful” Kol whispered as he studied your smile, eyes and complexion in the photo.

“Is there anybody else?” You asked Kol and instantly regretted it once he pointed to Caroline in the photo.

“Bonnie?”

“Witch” He replied.

“Tyler?”

“Werewolf”

You flopped back onto your bed trying to understand that all your friends had been keeping these major secrets from you.

“Is anybody normal?”

“Matt” Kol sat on the edge of your bed and watched you, your eyes left the ceiling and fell on Kol.

“Why haven’t you fed on me?” You asked as you sat up on your bed, you were curious as to why after all this time Kol had been so well behaved around you. Kol placed his hand on your thigh and began to lightly trace his fingers up and down your thigh.

“Every day y/n all I can think about is blood. But since I met you you’ve given me a reason to love, something to hold on to, to fight for. I don’t want to hurt you.” Kol’s hand had worked its way up to your face where he tucked some of your hair behind your ear and rested the palm of his hand on your neck. You melted into the touch and closed your eyes enjoying the moment.

“I’m not scared anymore Kol” You whispered, Kol smiled as he watched you try and keep your eyes open, you felt very sleepy, it had been a long night with lots of tears. Kol kicked off his shoes and removed his jacket, you made space on your bed for Kol to lay down with you. He put his arm around you and you cuddled into him, your head resting on his chest ready to fall asleep peacefully. Kol kissed the top of your head and squeezed you gently, confirming that you were really safe in his company.

#Kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #kol x reader #the vampire diaries #the vampire diares imagine #the originals #the originals imagine

172 notes · View notes

lamortexiii · 3 years

Photo

Cryptic Mystic: We Are the Mask

The things you like, how you socialize, your reactions - all make up parts of your personality. Deciphering the truth from the lies; we possess the ability to morph who we are. How much/what do we mask, and what purpose does “masking” serve? This month’s blog dives deep into a few topics that all tie together to create one collective theme. As most things in life, these topics are intertwined. You’ll likely take something different from this blog than the next person, but that’s how my blogs are, as you probably well know… Now, without further adieu, let’s jump into this one.

To start, I’d like to take a moment to ask that you visit the website 16personalities.com and take their personality test. I guarantee you’ll gain valuable insight into your personality, and how you compare with others. It may even help you to better understand yourself or others. I always get the result of “Protagonist: ENFJ-A”. This result hasn’t changed in the last 5 years, however, psychologists and layperson test-takers alike will let you know that throughout life the results can change. So, on a scale of 1-100, here are my detailed results:

MIND (Introversion VS extroversion): 89% extroverted

ENERGY (intuitive VS observant): 79% intuitive

NATURE (thinking VS feeling): 53% feeling

TACTICS (judging VS prospecting): 94% judging

IDENTITY (assertive VS turbulent): 56% assertive

Personality is a somewhat stable thing but has the potential to change over time in certain ways. There are some parts of us that I fully believe will never change. I term those the “concrete personality factors.” However, there are plenty of things about our personality that we can change if we try. Strong willpower and mind can aid in changing one's personality traits that are malleable. The not-so-malleable personality traits are much harder to change (if changing them is even possible) and would take a great amount of self-discipline and maybe even some serious professional therapy. My perspective: embrace who you are! If there is something about yourself that you would like to change because it is harmful to yourself or others, then work towards that change. At the end of the day, you are the only person who holds the key to changing who YOU are. The choice is ultimately yours. I tell people, no amount of therapy can change a person unless they truly want to change in the first place. Just like no one else can force you to change. Changing requires work and effort on YOUR part.

So how do masks tie into all of this? People hide who they are behind metaphorical masks all of the time. We see this in several realms, however not all always apply in this context to everyone. We see examples of people “masking” who they really are through makeup, clothing, behaviors, and actions on a daily basis. Some are better at hiding who they are than others, and some of these folks you likely believe that you know who they are, but in reality, you have no idea. That’s one of the interesting things about the internet - you can be whoever you want to be. Whether that is your true self or a figment of who you are, the internet is a place where we see the most “masking.” Deciphering the truth from the lies in this digital world can be challenging.

I’ll tell you a story about an encounter I had early on in the age of technology and computers. Back in the olden days of dial-up internet, we had these things called chat rooms. Haha. Okay, I’ll stop acting like most of you don’t know what the hell dial-up and that whole era of technology looked like because I’m sure that a majority of you experienced it firsthand like me. Anyway, so I was in a chat room talking with random strangers. I really hit it off with this one guy. We liked a lot of the same music and had a similar style. He sent me some pictures and I thought he was attractive. We had good conversations. It was a good friendship so far, so after talking with him for a few months I decided to set up a meeting. I decided to be on the safe side just in case and take a friend with me to meet him for the first time. A friend of mine needed to go visit her boyfriend so she agreed to give me a ride to the location and agreed to leave me there while she ran to her boyfriend’s house only if I was comfortable. If I wanted her to stay she agreed that she would stay with me. We drove the 30 minutes into town and approached the location in her pickup truck. As we came closer to the building I could see a guy standing outside of the building (it was a bar) and he was smoking a cigarette. He was wearing all black, chains hanging off of his pants, and a front-facing black baseball-style cap. I knew that had to be him. We stopped in front of the building and he walked towards the truck on the driver's side where my friend was sitting. Upon reaching the window, he looked absolutely nothing like the picture he had sent me. In fact, he was much older than the picture he had sent me. Yes, you can laugh, your friendly neighborhood witch Kavita was officially catfished before catfishing was a thing. *cue laughter* He had an extremely creepy energy coming off of him (and not the good kind). He asked what we were up to, and I told him we had some errands to run, but that I just wanted to stop by and say hi. He was eyeballing me like a piece of meat. I grew intensely uncomfortable. The tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. My friend sensed that this was not the meeting I had intended and explained to him that we had to go, but that it was good meeting him and quickly drove away. She began laughing, looked over at me with a sheepish smile, and said, “what in the fuck was that?!”

Oh, the early days of the internet. It was the wild west. It still is to a certain extent, but back then it was a much different time. My story paints an important picture about how people can easily put on a mask to impress others or to lure in their prey. I’ll never be certain of that man’s intention, but he lied about many things for one reason or another and that’s not cool.

Looking at masks from a literal perspective and their origin, the first masks are from at least 9000 years ago. They were thought to have been used for occult rituals in countries like China and Africa. Some masks were to ward off evil spirits, while others were used for disguise, entertainment, or even for religious worship. The earliest masks were made from tree bark and leather. Some of these masks were in the shape of a human face, however, some were shaped like animal faces. Animal face masks often symbolized the connection between native people and nature. Many tribes and ancient cultures (some of which still exist today) gave utmost importance to nature, animals, and the world around them. As time went on, sometimes animal masks were used in sync with someone’s zodiac as a form of personal representation.

Masks have come a long way since their invention. Today masks can be used for protection (as we know all too well in this day and age), as well as to supply oxygen and other drugs during procedures or in life-threatening situations. We see people wear masks on Halloween (counting the days over here!) as well as for social gatherings, such as a masquerade-themed party or on New Year’s Eve.

So, we’ve talked about metaphorical masks as well as masks in the literal sense. I hope that you were able to take something from this blog. Whether you learned something new that you found interesting or maybe you even learned something about yourself through that personality quiz. Until next month, be easy and stay safe out there my fellow earth wanderers.

<3 - K

Cryptic Mystic Blog by PsychVVitch @psychvvitch

www.LaMorteXiii.com

10 notes · View notes

s1utspeare · 3 years

Text

hhhnnnnggggghhh im going feral about acting choices again

ok ok ok so like. i’m working on the Zhang Daddy Rishan Kinesthetics Masterpost but also I was watching Mystic Nine yesterday to Watch His Lines and I realized that??? Fo ye???? is a Chest Lead???? so then of course I dropped everything to determine what Leads everyone in m9 has (and I’ll be doing the rest of the dmbj characters later im sure) but I HAD to share because I’m literally insane about it.

BIT OF BACKGROUND INFORMATION (asldighaldskfj y’all are really just going to get my entire theatre degree For Free): one of the easiest ways to Get Into Character and Embody Certain Traits is to decide how your character walks. They made us do this during movement workshops EVERY TIME (another thing we did during movement workshops was lie on the floor and scream. also there was an exercise where u just stared into each other’s eyes. anyway) because it’s like the best place to start, because even if u didn’t decide ANY physicality movements for your character except for what Lead they have, that’s still going to be a really good physical indicator of traits and characterization. And basically a Lead is just what body part Goes First when you’re walking (more on this in a bit).

Anyway, there are four main Leads:

Head: a head lead is someone who is known for being intelligent and logical. They do most of their character action inside themselves, and reveal it to the audience through lines and words. This is probably the most common lead because it’s the easiest to do. Wu Xie is

Chest: a chest lead literally is following their heart. They’re guided by emotions, and are often fierce and very loyal to the people they care about. They tend to do most of their character action through expression.

Hips: a hips lead is confident in their body and the way they present themselves. They are usually very physical, though not necessarily active. Hips leads can also become stomach leads or crotch leads, depending on what the actor wants to emphasize in their character (stomach is grounded, sensible, and strong; crotch is a little bit sleazier/less trustworthy a first glance; think Pangzi vs Hei Xiazi).

Feet: feet leads are the hardest to do, because they require an actor to have very good balance and poise. Feet leads are often people of action, and unlike physical characters who will use small bits of energy to keep continuously moving over time, they usually do bursts of energy at different times.

Sometimes actors will mix and match Leads, or emphasize an even more specific body part (i.e. shoulders instead of chest, knees instead of feet, nose instead of head), but for our purposes, these four Leads will basically cover all of our stuff.

Also! This works on people in real life, too! A fun exercise is to try and figure out which Lead you have (I say you, because it’s REALLY difficult to tell on other people, because while you do Lead with a certain body part, it’s entirely subconscious and thus very minimal). For example, I’m a Head Lead most of the time, except when I don’t want people to talk to me, or I want attention; then I switch to a Hips Lead. My roommate is a Feet Lead, and one of my best friends is a Chest Lead.

ANYWAY BACK TO MYSTIC NINE CHARACTERS! They are??? Super interesting???

Fo-ye: Like I said earlier, Fo-ye is a Chest Lead which BITCH??? I’M??? HELLO??? like you would think he’d be a Feet Lead or a Head Lead, but he’s a Chest Lead! It took me the longest to figure him out, I think, because I was looking for a Head Lead, but when he walks, it’s like there’s a string pulling him forward from his pectorals, which is SUPER INTERESTING. AND LIKE. IT MAKES SENSE? like fo-ye is smart and capable and active and yada yada yada, but he’s also super passionate? and often doesn’t think about things before he does them? He kind of just jumps in in the moment, doing whatever he thinks is best at the time, even if it comes back around to bite him. For a character with such a strong facade, that type of Lead is so revealing which puts him in very vulnerable positions, which is what it’s good that...

Ba-ye and Er-ye: are both Head Leads!! Like, ba-ye, obviously. He’s a stereotypical nerd, and they’re always Head Leads, but this bitch takes it to another level. Just look at him:

Head Lead lookin-ass. Anyway. But Ba-ye and Er-ye balance Fo-ye’s Chest Lead out very well (it’s funny that it takes two of them though). Er-ye’s Head Lead is also interesting, because it comes out a LOT when he’s doing opera. This could partially be because of the headdresses and costuming, but also I think that he’s very precision-oriented, and is constantly calculating everything in his head before he ever moves at all.

Zhang Rishan: babes is a Foot Lead. Like. He’s so funny. If you watch him run closely his feet come to a stop before everything else and it looks like wind’s blowing him backward. It makes sense though?? especially considering how tense he is all the time?? like sir please calm down, ur so tightly wound, it’s exhausting. Makes the Feet Lead make sense tho, cause like. he’s ready to GO. ready for action! also it makes his connection with Ba-ye even better cause like??? they’re Opposite Leads??? and i love that for them.

Chen Pi: Chen Pi is actually a natural Head Lead, which was super surprising to me, because he seems like he’d be a Chest, but I think he gets most of that from Er-ye and copying him and his methods of doing things. HOWEVER when he’s trying to intimidate people (and especially when he has to deal with Idiots like Officer Lu and Henry Cox, those bitches), he switches to a really heavy Hip Lead to make him seem sturdier than he actually is.

Yue Xinyue: I haven’t quite puzzled Xinyue out yet, but I’m pretty sure she’s a Chest Lead. Like Chen Pi, when she’s in disguise, especially as a man, she switches to Hips, which is a good strategy, since men are more likely to be Hip Leads, as their center of gravity is lower.

Yatou: my beautiful and perfect wife. Of course she’s a Chest Lead. Her heart is so big. I love her (also emphasizes her compatibility with Er-ye hehe).

My point that I’m getting at (besides characterization) is that almost NOTHING that you see onscreen is an accident. Not to like, put actors on a pedestal (bc the REAL magic is the tech people), but acting is hard when you really do it like, for real. Rehearsals for filmed shows often take anywhere between 1-3 months because you’ve got to get ALL OF THE CHARACTERIZATIONS and physicality and everything figured out so that when it’s in front of the camera you’re ready to go (and that’s not even TOUCHING ON fight choreo, which I also love). As much fun as acting is, and as easy as it looks, I can guarantee that there’s a million things going through each of their minds, including things as simple as which body part goes first (also it’s SUPER awkward to go against your natural lead lmao, so like. Props to everyone i love them).

Anyway! That’s the m9 main cast (i didn’t do the antagonists cause most of the time they’re Hip Leads anyway and also i didn’t want to go watch clips of Cox walking around, that’s boring). I think that @cross-d-a, @jockvillagersonly, and @lacommunarde were specifically interested in more acting meta, but I hope you all enjoy it as well!!!

34 notes · View notes

averykedavra · 4 years

Text

Love Runs Its Course

Is it clear yet that I’m just using this as an excuse to write sappy, indulgent human AUs with queerplatonic relationships? Because if not, I need to try harder. Anyway, commence coffee shop AU.

(Tagging @tsshipmonth2020! Title is from Call My Name by the Unlikely Candidates! You can find this story on Ao3 here.)

Prompt: Everyone has a timer that counts down to when you will meet your soulmate. 

Pairing: Pre-relationship Anxceit.

Words: 9501

Warnings: death and murder mentions but nothing actually occurs, anxiety, minor panic attack, cursing, self-deprecation, scars, mention of a car accident

If there was one thing Virgil hated about people—which there wasn’t, he hated a ton of things about people, from their annoying voices, to their questions about what he was going to do with his life, to the way they always stepped a little too close to him, to the fact that they generally existed and that put a cramp in Virgil’s style, but if he had to pick one thing—it’d be that they always asked about his soulmate.

He kept his timer covered. Countdowns freaked him out, and he’d rather not be staring at his wrist all day. He had a general idea of when he was going to meet his soulmate—probably in the next year or so, or maybe he should have met them by now, or maybe something had gone wrong and he’d never meet them ever and that was why he didn’t look at the goddamn timer. He tried not to think about soulmates in general. It was easy enough. He just focused on panicking over the things he could control, like his college courses and remembering his coffee order and not destroying every friendship in his life.

Soulmates were an enigma, an unknown, and Virgil did not do well with unknowns. They promised a person—or persons—who would understand you, complete you, show you a path you’d never even considered.

That was a terrifying concept. Virgil did not like to be known, for starters. He’d perfected the angry-emo look over the years, complete with shredded jeans and liberally-applied eyeshadow, so he would be the exact opposite. Intimidating. Off-putting. People looked once and looked away, and that was just what Virgil wanted.

He didn’t need a soulmate coming in and prying him open.

He was doing just fine on his own.

Except everyone kept asking. They’d glance down at his wrist, covered by his favorite purple hoodie, and ask if he’d met his soulmate yet. If they were dating. If they planned to get married. Apparently, by the age of twenty-one Virgil was supposed to have met his soulmate, even though he hated going outside and the world had literally billions of people in it. And planning to get married? Virgil wasn’t out of college.

Fuck people.

Sometimes, Virgil would just growl a noncommittal noise and ignore the question. If he was in a talkative mood, he’d say “Haven’t met them.”

Some people took that as a cue to change the subject. But others immediately started reassuring Virgil that he’d find them soon, that the universe would bring them together, and how long did he have left anyway? And Virgil was stuck in the conversation until he could find a polite way to leave, or his friends could bail him out.

They didn’t seem to get that he didn’t want reassurance. That being without his soulmate wasn’t a terrible isolation. He had friends—shocking but true, and something Virgil was still getting used to—and he had a life. He wasn’t going to drop everything to chase some mystical match. He had exams coming up. And soulmates were bullshit, anyway.

Roman would probably take offense to that. But they were. Virgil wasn’t about to trust fucking fate to pick out his missing piece or whatever. God might not play dice with the universe, but it was still a pretty weird matching game—or it was like when the whole class got gift bags and they tossed different gifts randomly into each one. Some people got toy trains or glitter pens. Virgil got a small wooden duck.

Yeah, that was what soulmates were like. Surprise gift bags filled with good toys and bad toys, and some people lucked out and some people didn’t, and some people’s gift bags got lost in the mail, and it was really fucking stupid to have gift bags anyway because who even asked? They’d just been handed them, sparkly and crinkly and leaking confetti, and been told “Here, you get this, take care of it.” No opt-out program. No “thanks, but no thanks” option. Just a heavy gift-bag filled with stuff nobody wanted, being told that they were special for having it.

And of course there were timers.

Because it wasn’t horror-movie enough to have a person specifically assigned to your soul. There were timers, and the numbers counted down, thick and black and rolling through the years, then the months, then the days and minutes. It was like being branded. Virgil had tried to scrub his off in ninth grade, just to see if he could, and the skin around it was left raw but the numbers never disappeared.

Virgil hated numbers. He’d never liked math, and numbers usually came in statistics about death or statistics about poverty or algebra he didn’t understand. And timers. Numbers came in timers and counted down to the moment where Virgil would be stuck with someone for the rest of his miserable existence.

Great.

Fucking fantastic.

Yay, soulmates.

Virgil guessed he should count himself lucky that he hadn’t met his yet. It wasn’t all luck, though—like he said, he barely left the house. But his soulmate wasn’t in his college, either. He’d been worried about that. Or maybe his soulmate was just as antisocial as he was. Maybe that’d be alright. They could avoid each other for the rest of their lives.

He covered up his timer, tried not to think about soulmates, and let the anxiety hum in his chest as a constant low-grade buzz. He’d made it this far. Everything was fine right now, no matter what his wrist said, itching under his hoodie and a black smudge in the mirror.

Everything was fine and Virgil was going to graduate college and become a graphic designer and live with several pet spiders and die at a ripe old age from colon cancer. Soulmate-less and perfectly happy.

Well, as happy as he could ever get, which wasn’t very.

People said that was because he didn’t have his soulmate yet. As if diagnosed anxiety and low self-esteem would be magically fixed by some asshole walking into his life and smiling at him. And they wondered why Virgil hated soulmates.

So yeah. Maybe Virgil wasn’t happy happy. But he was alright, and he was alive, and he had friends and a life and some kind of future. He’d stayed on his feet, which was more than he or his therapist really expected, and he had a job, too—at a coffee shop, but a job. It didn’t pay well and each shift was a nightmare and Remy the manager wasn’t the hugest asshole but was still a little bitch, and Virgil hated it utterly. But it was a job. And fucking student loans weren’t going to magically vanish if he just ignored them. Much as he wished that was possible.

He wished the universe spent less magic on soulmates and more magic on paying off student debt. Now that would be useful.

“Student debt,” he’d recite to himself after the third customer called him a name.

“Student debt,” he’d mutter as he mopped up a spilled caramel machiatto.

“Student debt,” he’d remind himself when Remy popped out to talk with his soulmate, which left Virgil with extra shifts he couldn’t say no to, because student debt and also crippling social anxiety.

“Student debt,” he’d groan into his pillow as he collapsed in his bed, surrounded by textbooks he didn’t know well enough to avoid studying the next morning, wondering whether he should just quit school and become a mime. At least it didn’t involve talking to people. Or studying. Or spilled caramel machiattos.

On nights like that, he wondered if he’d even manage to get up the next morning.

But he always did.

Here, queer, and full of fear. Alone, on his own, and fine with never being known.

And working at a coffee shop at three in the afternoon, trying to memorize his science notes in-between orders, the day cloudy and soupy and making Virgil’s purple hair frizz up under his hoodie. His nametag had broken mid-morning, forcing him to duct-tape it in place. And he’d ran out for some groceries during his lunch break, and the groceries had fallen out and now he had to buy new ones in the time he didn’t have, and he hadn’t actually had lunch and was running on three shots of espresso that made him even more jittery than usual, and in general Virgil was about three seconds from curling into a ball on the counter and waiting for the world to stop existing.

That was when he walked in.

Afterwards, Virgil figured he probably should have had some huge moment of shock. A love-at-first-sight thing. Or at least, he should have noticed the guy before he was at the front of the line.

But he didn’t, and even when the dude was right in front of him, he’d just nodded and asked “What can I get for you?” in his best I’m-a-helpful-employee-and-three-seconds-from-killing-everything voice. Vaguely, he noted that the guy had a black beanie and dyed blond tips and a bored smirk like he was also three seconds from killing everything but in less denial about it.

Guy rattled off his order, Virgil nodded and tossed it over to Remy, told the guy to have a seat, the dude nodded and adjusted his beanie, shaking out his wrists--

And froze.

The next person in line bumped into him. He just stood there, staring at his hands, then back up at Virgil.

“Um, you can sit down,” Virgil said awkwardly. He’d been joking about the killing everything--ugh, if this was gonna be a scene, Remy would kill him. And he really wasn’t in the mood to shepherd some customer out the door.

The guy kept staring at Virgil. Virgil decided to stare right back with his patented don’t-fuck-with-me glare. That didn’t send him packing. Guy just kept on staring, and Virgil looked back at dark brown eyes and an old scar on a tan cheek, and blond curls and a flannel shirt and a mouth dropped open.

“Dude,” Virgil said, trying to crack a joke to deflect from his growing discomfort, “stop staring. I get that I’m awesome, but we do have other customers.”

Other customers who were starting to whisper. Remy was shooting Virgil a glare over the coffee machine. Shit. Some asshole was definitely making a scene on Virgil’s shift, and fucking dammit, of course he was.

“Hello?” Virgil waved a hand. “Dude, hello? Why are you just standing there like a deer in headlights?”

He hated himself the minute he said those words. Now the asshole was gonna snap and kill him or something.

“You--” Asshole pointed at him. He seemed to lose his words as soon as they came, just pointing a few more times. Then he turned his wrist over.

A black zero. It shone in neat ink on the skin.

“Um, good for you?” Virgil said hesitantly. “Sure your soulmate is very lucky. I don’t get what--”

Then it hit him.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Fuck. Fuck, piss, shit, goddammit, why.

Almost automatically, Virgil pulled up the sleeve of his hoodie.

A zero.

Virgil opened his eyes and closed them again, shook his wrist like it was a flashlight with an iffy battery, turned his wrist over and back again, rubbed at the skin. The number refused to change.

He’d met his soulmate.

Virgil looked up slowly. Asshole was still standing there, looking both patient and somewhat terrified all at once, with his stupid beanie and stupid flannel and stupid, stupid timer.

Fuck.

This.

Shit.

“We’re soulmates?” Asshole asked, as if it wasn’t abundently clear.

Virgil opened his mouth to snark “Yeah, apparently, and fuck this” or say “Maybe, who knows?” or ask the dude if he was ever going to sit down and let Virgil do his goddamn job.

He swallowed and closed it again.

His hands started to shake.

“We’re soulmates,” Asshole said, sounding not entirely pleased but not completely disappointed. It was like a package he’d long expected had finally delivered, but the edges were scuffed up and a few pieces were missing. Which was pretty fucking accurate. Poor guy--he might be an asshole, but he didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve Virgil.

Or maybe he did. Virgil knew literally nothing about him, not even his name.

Just that they were soulmates.

A gift in a gift bag, shoved into his hands in the middle of his shift, dropped on his doorstep with no return policy.

Here. You’re meant to get this. Keep it.

Virgil tried to take a deep breath and found his chest was too tight to allow it.

Shit, fuck, shit.

“Hey,” said Asshole Soulmate, stepping forward. “Are you...you look like you’re definitely taking this well.”

Oh, really? Virgil would have snapped if he wasn’t busy hyperventilating. Can’t imagine why my soulmate showing up out of the blue and ruining my shift wouldn’t be fucking ideal!

“I--” he stammered out instead. He looked wildly for an exit. He couldn’t be here anymore. Asshole was going to start asking questions, and he didn’t have answers or explanations, couldn’t piece together anything that explained how terrified he felt--

Breathing exercises. He used to know them. They’d all gone from his head. Fuck, shit, fuck. The whole place was too small. Too loud. The air was too hot and too still and brown eyes watched him, too concerned, too close--

“I have to go,” Virgil burst out.

And he pushed his way out from behind the counter, grabbed his backpack, and bolted out of the shop.

The door slammed shut behind him.

The last thing he saw was the face of his soulmate, staring after him, looking like he was three seconds from swearing as much as Virgil currently was.

In his head, of course. He didn’t think he could speak if he wanted to.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Virgil ran. He tore down the sidewalk, sprinting around corners and skidding away from the road. People were probably staring. He couldn’t see their faces, though. They blurred around him. Too many colors, the air was thick and heavy and pressing onto him and he couldn’t breathe--

Virgil ducked into the nearest subway entrance. He stumbled his way down the steps, sure he was going to fall. Somehow he managed to get all the way to the bottom. A few people were gathered at the edges. It was blissfully cool.

Virgil’s feet rung out against the tiles. He rushed over to the turnstile and tried to push through. Fuck. His card. Fuck, fuck--Virgil yanked on his zipper, breaking it, and practically tore his way into his backpack. It took him three tries to scan his card. He slammed open the turnstile and sprinted into the station, took the first turn he saw, and ended up next to an empty track with a glowing sign proclaiming that the next subway was in fifteen minutes.

Perfect. He’d just stay here for fourteen, then. Subways themselves freaked him out--too loud, too sudden, and the people on them always sent Virgil shuddering--but the cool underground darkness of the station was a relief. No one was here to stare as he sunk to the ground, pulling his legs to his chest, stuttering his way through his breathing.

Five things he could see.

The dim yellow glow of the lights far above him, the dark tunnel, the dirty stairs covered in gum, the old mosaic walls, his smudged sneakers.

Four things he could feel.

His hoodie, soft and comfortable around him. The strap of his backpack around his arm. The cool floor below him--probably filled with disease and germs, but Virgil was past thinking about that. His bangs falling over his face.

Three things he could hear.

The scuttling of a rat--ew--the whistle of a subway far above him, the distant strains of a street performer strumming their way through Stairway to Heaven.

Two things he could smell.

He could smell a lot of things, all of them very bad and most of them unidentifiable. He took another deep breath. His own sweat, and moldy pizza. Maybe. It could be moldy anything.

One thing he could taste.

Virgil ran his tongue over his lips. The remains of this morning’s espresso.

His heart was hammering just a little bit less.

Virgil took one more deep breath, leaned back, and kicked out his legs. The pavement was cold and rough under his hands but helped pull him back into his body a little more. The rat shimmied into a hole and disappeared.

Ten minutes until that subway came.

So.

He’d met his soulmate.

“Fuck,” Virgil said out loud to the empty tracks and the lurking darkness around him.

Nobody responded.

Okay. Virgil met his soulmate. This was fine. This was fine! He’d just never talk to the guy again. They’d go on their own way and never have to interact again. The dude probably wouldn’t want to see Virgil again, after Virgil had run out of the coffee shop like he’d been lit on fire.

That was another problem.

“Shit,” Virgil said, more quietly. He didn’t think he’d be fired for it. Remy would be pissed, but Remy liked Virgil well enough, and Remy wouldn’t fire him over a panic attack. Still, it was really fucking embarrassing. And he’d have to go back. He had a shift to complete today--

Virgil paused and shook out his hands. His whole body felt like it had been wrung through the wash. Or run over by a subway.

He pulled out his phone.

One text from Remy: girl u ok?

Virgil rolled his eyes and huffed.

It took him three minutes to compose a text back.

taking the day off. u dont have 2 pay me. sry.

Virgil tapped on the ground to the rhythm of Remy’s little dots, trying and failing not to overthink what Remy was typing.

paying u anyway, but u owe me a cappucino tmrw, bitch

And then:

soulmate guy is still here btw. says he’s waiting to see if u want to come back

Virgil’s heartbeat, which had just reached a relatively normal resting rate, skyrocketed again.

The guy was still there? Didn’t he have stuff to do? A life? Why was he waiting around for some dude who’d stared at him then run out of the shop like a fucking weirdo?

Well, they were soulmates, weren’t they? That was the sort of romantic shit soulmates were supposed to do.

God, he hoped the guy wasn’t a fucking romantic. That’d be the worst. Virgil didn’t do romance, period. If Asshole Soulmate was looking for someone to smooch and bring flowers, he was out of luck.

Except it didn’t matter. They would never see each other again.

Virgil didn’t want to see him ever again.

He read Remy’s text again.

The sign above the tracks read three minutes left. If he didn’t hurry, he’d get caught off guard. He needed to go back up and walk home, then spend the rest of the day playing video games and eating snacks and practicing some fucking self-care.

He read Remy’s text a third time.

“Fuck,” Virgil remarked, just because he could, and because he hated everything about this.

He stood up, adjusted his backpack, and walked back up the steps.

The hot air hit him like a wall when he stepped outside. He shook himself and wished for a second that he could be comfortable meeting people without his hoodie. But he hated life without it, and he looked fucking awesome in it, so now he had to suffer.

Virgil pushed through the crowds, head low, and made his way back to the coffee shop.

It was still crowded when he peeked through the glass windows. Remy and the others were bustling around in their aprons--that’s when Virgil realized he hadn’t taken his apron off. Fuck. He untied it and shoved it mercilessly into his bag. Then he straightened.

A small tap sounded on the window.

Virgil looked over and almost spiraled into a second panic attack.

Asshole Soulmate was staring straight at him.

Virgil looked at him, gave him a little salute, and started to back away.

Asshole Soulmate gave him a piercing look. He was sitting at a small table, his laptop in front of him. He looked about Virgil’s age, Virgil figured, and he had a few piercings in one ear. That scar Virgil noticed earlier dipped into the curve of his mouth and made him look perpetually smirking. His beanie was lopsided like he’d been pulling at it. For some reason, Virgil found that kind of endearing. He had a firm nose and those deep brown eyes and long fingers that tapped at his laptop even as he watched Virgil--

And it didn’t matter what he looked like, because Virgil was leaving.

Something twisted in Asshole Soulmate’s expression when Virgil turned to walk away. Virgil pushed down the guilt in his chest. This was better for both of them. His soulmate would see that too, eventually.

Another tap on the window.

Virgil looked back despite himself. Asshole Soulmate was scribbling something on his notebook. He held up one finger as he wrote, clearly telling Virgil to give him a second.

Virgil gave him that second, shifting from foot to foot, hands deep in his pockets. It was a mistake coming here, it just made him look weird, he needed to go--

Asshole Soulmate pressed his notebook against the window.

In neat black cursive were the words I will be here for twenty-four hours. If you’re interested in stopping by, I can make room for you on my schedule. The coffee here is mediocre, and tell your boss to add more sugar to the scones.

-Janus

Virgil stared at him.

Asshole Soulmate winked--actually winked, what planet was this guy from--and gave Virgil a secretive smirk. As if they were in on the joke together.

Virgil had never been more fucking confused in his entire life.

He’d met his soulmate, stared at his soulmate, and ran away. And said soulmate was waiting for him. Said soulmate was a dyed-hair college student with a smirk that screamed hide your wallet and neat cursive handwriting and glittering brown eyes.

His soulmate.

Janus.

J-A-N-U-S. Clear and dark against the window.

Virgil swallowed.

Janus. A weird name, but not bad, and it definitely matched the general weirdness of this guy. He swung the notebook away from the window and returned to typing, somehow completely ignoring Virgil and yet making it perfectly clear he knew Virgil was still standing there. Like a lost duck. Alone on the sidewalk, watching his soulmate tap at his computer at the smallest table in the coffee shop.

Another chair was pulled up on the other side. Room for two.

If Virgil wanted.

Virgil didn’t want.

Virgil turned away. Virgil walked home, backpack swinging from his shoulder, and didn’t go back because he didn’t want a soulmate. Virgil spent the rest of the afternoon watching TV and eating ice cream, and didn’t go back because he didn’t want trouble. Virgil ate reheated chicken and old celery for dinner, and didn’t go back because he didn’t want a relationship. Virgil curled up on the couch and listened to his music, and didn’t go back because he didn’t want someone to complete him, someone to be stuck with him, someone who was a perfect match for Virgil according to the universe, but who knew what that actually meant in practice. He knew nothing about this guy.

And he didn’t want to learn.

Because he knew how this went. Love would run its course, and then there would be heartbreak, because Janus would learn that Virgil was just a screwup with dark clothes and anxiety and trust issues and a life with no trajectory.

Janus would stop waiting. No matter if the guy was a romantic or really nice or just stubborn, eventually he would give up.

Everyone always did.

Including Virgil.

Virgil didn’t want Janus, and he knew Janus wouldn’t want him, and the smartest thing to was just to move on with his life.

The zero on his wrist itched.

Fuck soulmates. Fuck Janus. Fuck the whole entire fucking universe.

It was eleven o’clock, and Virgil couldn’t sleep.

He wondered if Janus liked hugs. He wondered if Janus liked old, weird costumes. He wondered if Janus liked makeup and horror movies and drawing and coffee. He wondered if Janus was his age. Maybe they went to the same college. He wondered if Janus used the same hair dye he did, and if they could help each other with their hair, because Virgil always did it on his own and ended up staining his hands and his face and the whole kitchen sink.

He wondered if he was a fucking idiot for even considering this.

No, he knew that. Virgil was an idiot. Virgil was a complete fucking moron who looked at a dark hole, knew how to avoid it, and thought about falling in anyway just to see what it was like.

Just to see what he was like.

Janus, with his stupid smirk and stupid cursive and stupid hat.

It was a really stupid hat. Only Janus could even pull it off, and he barely did. It was just on the edge of charming and if Virgil was being really uncharitable, it was crossing that edge into straight-up ridiculous.

Virgil wondered how he got his scar. Where he got his shirt. What he was working on in the coffee shop, whether he’d been there before, who told him. He’d ordered a scone. He had complaints. Maybe he liked to cook and bake. That’d be pretty cool, Virgil missed home-cooked food, he usually just microwaved some takeout--

What was he even thinking?

Virgil groaned and turned over on the couch, grabbing one cushion and pulling it over his head. Fuck home-cooked meals. Fucking beanies. Fucking domestic little scenes that he now found playing out in his head, as if that was realistic, as if he hadn’t just met the guy and immediately ruined it and decided he’d never see him again.

Soulmates.

Fucking soulmates.

Fucking soulmates who were probably still at the coffee shop. He’d said twenty-four hours. He’d still be there. It was a twenty four-hour shop and he’d still be sitting there, maybe working on whatever he was working on, smirking with that smirk of his and waiting for Virgil.

Stubborn. Kind of stupid. Maybe a little desperate, too.

Virgil was all three, so he had to respect that.

It was midnight now. Virgil should be sleeping. Sleep deprivation was bad for his anxiety, which was already a thick mass in his chest. If he wasn’t careful, he’d have his second panic attack of the day, and that’d be a fucking nightmare.

Virgil sighed and curled up tighter on the couch. He wasn’t tired. His brain was running at the speed of light and kept circling back to Janus, Janus waiting, Janus his soulmate and bound to be disappointed but what if--what if--

Virgil wasn’t a hopeful person. He liked being either pessimistic or downright cynical--it left less room for disappointment.

He was hoping now, though, and it terrified him.

“Fuck!” he yelled into his empty apartment.

The only response was the dull throb of a party downstairs, a steady beat that made Virgil’s head swim.

He’d never wanted to be stuck in the city. But he hadn’t thought he could handle the college dorms, so he’d grabbed an apartment, and found he could handle that even less.

Virgil was a mess. A failure. A twenty-one-year-old disappointment with a test tomorrow and a brain that wouldn’t shut up and a bunch of pipe dreams he knew would never come true. This was just one of them. Soulmates, lucrative jobs, moving to Venus and becoming a planetary god--they all seemed like crap in the light of day.

It wasn’t day, though. It was late at night and Virgil’s brain was fried and the heat had finally died down. It would be nice outside. Walking around the city at late wasn’t super safe, but he’d take a switchblade and some pepper spray, and the coffee shop was just down the street.

He was actually considering this, wasn’t he?

Fuck.

Janus was waiting for him. Janus wouldn’t leave for twenty-four hours, and at the very least, he should give Janus an excuse to stop waiting. Janus would need some sleep.

Virgil needed some sleep too, and Janus was the thing keeping him from it, the face in his mind when he closed his eyes.

He should at least apologize.

Virgil sighed, rolled off the couch, pulled on his hoodie, and slipped into his shoes. He double-checked the lock on the apartment door, ran his hands over his pepper spray, and took the stairs because the elevator might get stuck or catch on fire. He walked as fast as he could down the sidewalk, avoiding the crowds of people under the neon lights, clouds drifting over the sky and skyscrapers gleaming in the distance.

The coffee shop was lit up when he approached. He told himself Janus was probably gone. He was fucking with Virgil, maybe, or he’d just gotten bored and went home. This was stupid, this whole thing was stupid, and Virgil could just turn around and go home--

Janus was still sitting there. He was nursing a huge cup of coffee and a plate next to him with a half-finished croissant. His chin was in his hand and he kept yawning, but he was still blinking blearily at his laptop screen.

Well, fuck.

Virgil sighed. He’d come too far to turn back now, and any minute Janus would look up and see Virgil standing outside the coffee shop again.

Okay. He was...he was going to order some coffee. And he’d sit down and if Janus motioned him over, he’d sit with Janus. But he wouldn’t make the first move. That meant he’d have plausible deniability if...well, he didn’t know exactly what, but maybe if Janus was trying to argue with him or kill him. How would he know?

Midnight coffee shop. The perfect place for a murder.

Virgil shook himself. It wasn’t empty. Remy was right there. And if shit got real, Virgil had pepper spray and could bolt out of there again.

This was fine.

This was completely fucking fine.

Virgil took a deep breath, buried his hands tight in his hoodie, and opened the door.

Virgil barely ever took late-night shifts at the shop. They weirded him the fuck out--he preferred to stay inside when it was dark. And when it was too sunny, and when it was crowded, and just generally, but especially at night. Night was filled with murderers and vampires and shadow demons. Weirdass people got coffee at midnight and Virgil didn’t want to ever have to deal with them.

And now he’d become one of those weirdass people.

And he was seeing the coffee shop in a whole new light, the floor gleaming with yellow, the windows practically opaque except for pricks of red and white lights from the city around them. It was dead quiet except for the low hum of music, the occasional shifting of one of the only customers, and Remy wiping down the counter.

Virgil let the door swing shut behind him. It thudded way too loud and he jumped. All the customers looked up. Old dude with a salt-and-pepper beard, younger woman with long blue hair and more piercings than skin, and Janus. Janus. Janus looked up at Virgil and raised one eyebrow.

Virgil pointed to the counter, hoping it conveyed “I’m gonna get a coffee and decide whether or not I’m gonna bolt again. Stay there.”

Janus nodded and turned away. The light from his laptop illuminated the planes of his face and the way his eyes kept flickering up to Virgil. Virgil hunched into his hoodie and pointedly ignored him.

Remy gave Virgil a searching look when Virgil reached the counter. “Hey, babes.”

“Hey, Remy.” Virgil looked around at the menu. “Espresso with--”

“Hold on, no way.” Remy tipped his sunglasses down and shook his head. “You had one this morning, girl, and that stuff ain’t good for you.”

“Says you,” Virgil pointed out.

“Shut up, this stuff is my lifeblood. But there’s still hope for you.” Remy took a swig of his own coffee. “Anyway, you won’t sleep for a week if I give you more espresso, so nah, girl, try again.”

“It’s midnight,” Virgil complained. “And Rem, I’m not gonna get through this conversation without it.”

Remy paused and sighed. “I guess the customer is always right. One espresso, double shot--”

“Triple shot.”

“Double shot, bitch, or I’ll throw it at your head.” Remy slid over to the coffee machine and started it up. “So...you’ve got a boyf.”

Virgil almost hissed. “I do not!”

“Fine, you’ve got a pre-boyf.” Remy popped up and began filling a coffee cup. He glanced at Janus, who was studiedly not looking at them, though Virgil was pretty sure he was listening. “He’s alright, kinda fine, the hat is stupid.”

“The hat is stupid,” Virgil agreed.

Janus stopped typing. Virgil watched to see what he would do.

He turned around and flipped them both off.

Well. That was more entertaining than expected. Virgil smirked and returned the gesture, and Janus snorted before returning to his work.

“You’re made for each other,” Remy drawled.

Virgil growled, the smile immediately falling off his face. “Give me the fucking coffee.”

“Yikes, girl, would a ‘please’ kill you?” Remy slid Virgil’s coffee over. “Now pay up.”

“I’m an employee.”

“And I’m fabulous and don’t want to be here. Tough tits, emo.”

Virgil groaned and slapped a five on the counter. “One of these days I’m quitting.”

“Sure, babes.” Remy slipped the bill into the register and gave Virgil a little wave. “Say hi to your pre-boyf. And don’t worry,” he added, smile growing a little softer, “I’ll kick his ass if necessary.”

“You couldn’t fight your way out of a coffee cup,” Virgil said, but he gave Remy a little salute anyway.

And with coffee in hand, he took another deep breath and walked over to Janus.

Janus had already moved his things off the table, which meant there were several stacks of binders and textbooks by his feet. He shuffled a few papers, stuck them under the lid of his laptop, and closed it slowly. Virgil nodded at him and sat in the other chair, kicking at the ground, taking a sip of the coffee. It wasn’t espresso. It was a pumpkin spice latte. Goddammit, Remy.

“Hello,” Janus said slowly, and Virgil looked up.

There was a good three inches of space between them. It wasn’t enough to make Virgil feel less trapped, less gutted under Janus’ gaze.

Virgil fidgeted with his coffee and kicked at the table leg instead. It made the whole table wobble. Janus gave him a look and steadied his notebooks.

“Lot of stuff,” Virgil remarked, trying to keep his voice from cracking. “Do you usually bring the Amazon Rainforest to a coffee shop?”

“Yes, I carry it upon my back as penance for my many crimes.” Janus snorted. “Patton dropped it off later, after I decided I was staying.”

“Patton?”

“My roommate.” Janus waved a hand. “I figured I would get some studying done while I waited.”

“You’re in school?” Virgil asked. He wished he’d brought his fidget toy or something. Instead, he was left sipping a pumpkin spice latte and staring out the window instead of at Janus. Janus didn’t seem to mind, but still, Virgil wished he could curl up in his hoodie and disappear.

“College,” Janus said. “You?”

“College.” Virgil shifted. “I’m--assuming the same one?”

Janus shook his head. “I actually live in Britain. I just teleport here for the coffee.”

Virgil stared at him for a second before his tired brain realized the sarcasm. He snorted in surprise. Janus looked weirdly pleased with himself.

“What do you study?” Janus asked after a few seconds.

“Oh, um--” Virgil shifted. “Graphic design.”

“Graphic design,” Janus repeated, a smile playing around his lips. “So your career aspirations are poverty and well-designed party invitations.”

Usually, that would make Virgil angry. He didn't like when people made fun of his major. But the obvious tease in Janus’ voice, plus the way he laid it all out on the table, made Virgil weirdly relaxed. Janus could bite back. And that was kind of a relief. He wasn’t just a bland nice guy, which meant maybe--just maybe--he was a little bit equipped to handle Virgil.

“What about you?” Virgil asked.

“Double major,” Janus said. “Theater and psychology.”

“Got it.” Virgil smirked and decided to take a risk. “So your career aspiration is being a super villain.”

And Janus laughed, bringing his hand up to his mouth, eyes crinkling.

It was a nice laugh.

Not that Virgil cared, of course.

“Of course, can’t you tell?” Janus asked, still chuckling. “I think I could pull off a cape.”

“Sure,” Virgil said, a little bubble of confidence forming. “Just like you pull off the hat.”

“I don’t understand all the hat hate!” Janus exclaimed, a twitch at the corner of his mouth showing he was teasing again, and Virgil usually hated sarcasm and in-jokes. Too confusing. Too double-edged and shifty. Except with Janus, it was so blatantly obvious every time, and Virgil didn't have to worry about hidden meanings. He just got to...talk. And tease back.

He almost never got to do that.

“Surely you’ve worn a hat once,” Janus continued, folding his arms. “You must understand the art if you’re to judge me. Have you worn a hat?”

“Wow, pretty quick with the personal questions there,” Virgil said. “You don’t even know my name.”

“It’s Samantha.”

“Fuck you.” Virgil paused. “Um, not literally. I’m ace. And--aro.”

And Janus looked ridiculously relieved. “Oh, thank fuck, you’re sensible. I was worried about that.”

A flicker of hope in Virgil’s chest. “You’re--”

“Aro too.” Janus waved a hand. “And sexuality is a quagmire that baffles me. We’re on the same page.”

Virgil almost smiled.

“What is your name?” Janus asked idly, stirring a spoon in his coffee and watching Virgil with that same piercing look. “I've been calling you Emo Soulmate in my head and it’s not at all annoying.”

“Well, you were Asshole Soulmate,” Virgil said, and enjoyed another laugh from Janus. “But no, I’m not telling you my name. You’re a stranger.”

Janus gave an offended little gasp and pressed a hand to his heart. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Nope.”

“That’s fucking rude, Emo Soulmate.” Janus shook his head sorrowfully. “No manners at all.”

“Deal with it.” Virgil gave up on his pumpkin spice latte entirely. He shot Remy a glare. Remy was cleaning the counter again, humming to himself and occasionally giving Virgil finger guns. Virgil flipped him off and Remy cackled.

“So,” Janus said finally, “if names are off-limits, is there anything I do get to know about you?”

“I told you my major.”

“Lots of idiots are graphic designers, you’re not special.” Janus paused. “I...I feel like we got off on a less-than-great foot--”

“Yeah, you think?” Virgil caught himself before he could continue. “It, um--wasn’t your fault though. Um. Go on.”

“Thank you,” Janus said smoothly. It was unfair that he got to be so poised and Virgil was still trembling under the table. One of the customers left, the door thudding shut behind them, a blast of night air whipping Virgil’s bangs and making him shiver in his hoodie. “As I was saying, I’d--I’d like to get to know you.”

“Creepy,” Virgil said. “What do you want, an ice-breaker session? What color matches your soul?”

“Yellow,” Janus said immediately.

“What--” Virgil laughed. “You actually have an answer?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” Janus spread his hands. “What about you?”

“I don’t--” Virgil covered his mouth as he laughed harder. “Dude, no. Just--no.”

“You’re probably black,” Janus said, undeterred.

“To match my coffee and my soul?”

“And the emo aesthetic, of course.” Janus paused. “Actually, I think you'd be more purple. Since you like purple.”

“I like purple?”

“I would hope so, since you’re wearing that hoodie and fidgeting with the sleeve like it’s your only lifeboat in a sea of insanity.”

Virgil flushed. “Um. Yeah. I do like purple. I--made this hoodie, actually. Back in high school. It’s a comfort thing, makes it easier to feel like I’m hiding, which makes my brain shut up for a bit.”

Then Virgil decided he was going to die in a hole, because why had he said all that, Janus was gonna be weirded out--wait, since when did he care about that--

“It looks good on you,” Janus said, and Virgil almost choked on thin air. “It’s stitched quite well--edgy yet strangely charming.”

Virgil recovered himself enough to smirk. “That’s what I was going for.”

“Why am I not surprised.” Janus glanced out the window. A car careened past them on the street, headlights swirling in the darkness.

“It’s late,” Virgil said idly, because he might as well just dig himself deeper at this point.

“You were the one who chose to meet at this time,” Janus pointed out.

“What would you do if I didn’t?” Virgil asked. They were entering dangerous territory, but he clenched his fists and soldiered on. “Fall asleep on your mountains of paper, alone and bereft?”

“Oh, darling, no.” Janus swirled his coffee. “You see this? Seven espresso shots. If I want to stay awake, I do.”

“Remy let you have seven?” Virgil blurted out. “Not fair!”

“It’s because I seduced him,” Janus said with a poker face.

Virgil snorted. He didn’t like his laugh much, which wasn’t usually a problem because he didn’t laugh very often. Now, though--maybe it was the late night, but he almost couldn’t stop himself.

“Anyway, it’s not like I’m new to this,” Janus added, taking a sip of coffee. “I am double-majoring, after all.”

“Yeah, and that’s fucking impressive,” Virgil said. “I think I’d die of stress.”

“The jury’s still out on me,” Janus admitted.

Silence again. Virgil tapped his fingers against the glass. It was cold beneath his touch and he shivered.

“I still like the question idea,” Janus finally said.

“Then shoot,” Virgil said, shrugging. “I don’t bite.”

“I doubt that.”

Virgil grinned and bared his teeth. Janus hissed back, his nose wrinkled. It was actually really adorable.

Janus composed himself quickly, though. “What’s your favorite animal?”

“Spiders,” Virgil said without hesitation. “Favorite food?”

“The souls of the innocent.” Janus snickered when Virgil did. “I suppose...caviar?”

“Caviar,” Virgil repeated, shaking his head. “You can’t be real, you pretentious little fuckwad.”

“Charming, do you treat all your acquaintances this way?” Janus didn’t sound mad at all. “And I’m most certainly real. Unless I’m not.”

“Dude, don’t give me an existential crisis, c’mon.” Virgil bit his lip. “Your turn for questions.”

“Favorite book?”

“Black Cauldron. Favorite movie?”

“The Godfather. Favorite musical?”

“Um, Heathers.” Janus gave Virgil an of course look and Virgil swatted at him. “Favorite show?”

“Pride and Prejudice miniseries, 1995.” Janus paused. “I’m simultaneously learning nothing and everything about you.”

“Yeah, that’s ‘cause this is shallow shit,” Virgil said. “If you wanna actually know what I’m like beneath the eyeliner, you have to dig deeper.”

“Am I allowed to?” Janus asked.

Virgil opened his mouth to say no, of course not, vulnerability was his kryptonite and trust was his poison, and in fact he really had to go.

“Yes,” Virgil said.

Janus looked surprised. He couldn’t possibly be more surprised than Virgil felt. Virgil, who figured he’d lost control of his brain or something, because he was talking to a stranger who was his soulmate and it was midnight in a coffee shop and Janus glowed golden against the dark windows.

“Well, then.” Janus tapped on the table. “Where did you grow up?”

“Stalker,” Virgil muttered.

“You did say--”

“I know, I know.” Virgil hunched his shoulders. Honestly, that wasn’t as bad as he expected. “Outside of the city, actually. Few miles out. Suburbs.”

“You in suburbia? Perish the thought.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t a good match.” Virgil chewed on his lip. “Do I? Get to ask you questions too?”

“Yes. My turn.”

“Hey!” Virgil complained. Janus laughed.

“Who’s your best friend?” Virgil blurted out before Janus stole his question.

“Look who’s the stalker now,” Janus drawled. “I...Patton, my roommate, I suppose. I don’t--have many close friends.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said, “me neither.”

There was a long moment of silence. Remy had gone in the back and all the customers except for them were gone. The tables and floors gleamed in the light. Somewhere in the distance a siren wailed, muted by the gentle hum of music and the bubbling roar of traffic. It felt surreal. Too polished, too bright, too sharp to be real. Like Virgil would wake up tomorrow and know he’d never met his soulmate, his timer still counting down, Janus just a figment of his imagination.

Virgil looked down at his wrist for confirmation. A zero, in black ink, outlined in yellow by the harsh lights of the shop

“What do you want?”

Virgil looked up at Janus, who had that penetrating expression again, like he was trying to commit every bit of Virgil to memory. Virgil didn’t get what was so interesting. He had purple hair and purple patches on his jacket and messy eyeliner and probably some sort of scowl. But Janus looked at him like Virgil had all the secrets of the universe and Janus was decoding them, one by one.

Again, it should have been scary.

Virgil wasn’t scared.

And that, in itself, scared him.

“Be more specific,” Virgil said. “Like, right now? Right now I want some real coffee, for starters.”

“Not that,” Janus said, waving a hand. “From...life, I suppose. What’s your biggest dream?”

Virgil shifted. “I dunno. I don’t think about it much.”“You don’t?”

“Nah, anxiety makes it pretty freaky to think about the future.” Virgil thought for a second. “Um. I guess...I wanted to be a fashion designer, when I was little.”

Janus tilted his head. “What changed?”

“Didn’t have the time or materials.” Virgil shrugged and looked at the table. “Or...the drive, I guess. High school was rough and I needed a career path that gave me a quick buck.”

Janus snorted. “So you chose graphic design?”

“Shut up!” Virgil complained, swatting at Janus again. Janus dodged out of reach, grinning. “They both have design in them!”

“Whatever you say,” Janus chuckled.

“Anyway, yeah.” Virgil fidgeted with his sleeve. “Making clothes, making stuff--I still like to do it. So I guess that’s my dream, maybe.”

Janus looked thoughtful for a second, and Virgil felt like an idiot. Being a fashion designer was stupid. And here he was, dumping his life and regrets on a stranger. Fucking idiot.

“You’d be a good one,” Janus said, and once again, Virgil was thrown completely and utterly off guard. How did someone so surprising still set him at ease? “Of course I haven’t seen your work, but I like your jacket, and I think you’d be good at it. However, you have to promise to make me any outfit I want when you become famous.”

“Oh really,” Virgil said, feeling completely fucking exhilarated by the compliment. Which was pathetic, but it also gave him another burst of confidence, so worth it. “Let me guess, a cape, a red-and-black tunic with gold trim, a supportive uncle and firebending powers--”

“Scar jokes,” Janus said, his mouth twitching. “Bold.”

Virgil’s confidence immediately left him. “I--yeah, sorry--that was--”

“Funny,” Janus interrupted. “And it’s better than just ignoring it. I have a scar, it looks incredible if I do say so myself, and Avatar is a great show.”

Virgil smiled sheepishly. “You sure?”

“You’re fine.” Janus was silent for a long time, twisting his fingers together. Lights played across his face. The scar was old, Virgil noticed, and ugly, like it had never gotten properly stitched back together. Virgil rubbed at a grease spot on the edge of the table and let the quiet stretch between them.

“It was a car accident,” Janus said, his voice soft. “I was seven."

“Oh,” Virgil said, hating himself for not thinking of anything else. “That sucks.”

“Yes, it did.” Janus folded his hands on the table. “Your turn to ask a question, Emo Soulmate.”

“Oh! Yeah. Right.” Virgil bit his lip. “Um. Greatest fear?”

“Coming for me psychologically, I see. Excellent plan.” Janus shrugged. “Government control, I suppose. Or dying in obscurity.”

“Yeah, for me it’s just dying,” Virgil said, “but good for you.”

“Thank you.” Janus laughed and was silent again for a few more seconds. And Virgil usually hated the quiet, but this quiet was nice and comforting and felt more like a lull than an awkward pause, and why was this guy taking everything that usually made him anxious and somehow making it fine?

“Why did you run?”

Virgil’s fingers spasmed on the table. Well. So much for that.

“It’s alright if you don’t want to respond,” Janus said slowly, “but I’m curious.”

“I--” The words stuck in Virgil’s throat. “I was scared.”

“Of what?” Janus’ voice dipped. “Me?”

“No!” Virgil was surprised by the vehemence in his voice. “You’re--you were fine. A little awkward, but that made sense, and...yeah. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Good,” Janus said, and Virgil was surprised by the relief in his voice. He’d been worried about that, hadn’t he? He’d thought Virgil saw him and didn’t like him, or maybe he was even worried about his scar, and yet he’d still waited just in case Virgil came back and changed his mind.

God, Virgil didn’t deserve this soulmate.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Virgil said. “I’m sorry, I--”

“I’m not asking for an apology.” Janus’ face was achingly soft. “I’d just like to know.”

“Yeah. I--” Virgil curled his fingers. “I was just--scared. I was scared of...soulmates. Having one. Being one. I guess I--I never really wanted one, and you just showed up, and I know you didn’t ask for me as your soulmate but--”

Janus didn’t prod Virgil or push him to continue, which weirdly, made him gain the courage he needed to keep going.

“I’m not--” Virgil waved at himself. “And you’re--ugh, I just, I hate what everyone says about soulmates, that they’re supposed to complete each other, to fix it each other. You--I’m not--you can’t fix me. I’m not--I’m anxious, I’m a mess, I’m not going to be good enough for you and you’ll be stuck with me for the rest of your life! That’s not--” Virgil swallowed. “That’s not fair to you.”

Janus was quiet. Virgil slammed his mouth shut, sat on his hands, and decided he was going to leave the city and become a strawberry farmer. Strawberry farmers didn’t have to talk to their soulmates and brace themselves for inevitable rejection, because Janus got it now, and now he was going to leave--

“I don’t like people,” Janus said.

Okay, yeah, Virgil didn’t expect that. He looked up hesitantly. Janus looked more determined than ever.

“Society is an illusion and the world is corrupt,” Janus continued. “Most people I meet are either mindless, dull, or sickeningly sweet. It’s a very rare person who actually manages to entertain me, and even rarer for them to be kind and funny and intelligent and very clearly a good person.”

Virgil stared at him. He thought he knew where Janus was going, but that couldn’t be right--why was he--

“And I’m a liar.” Janus shrugged. “It’s a defense mechanism. I’ve barely trusted anyone in my life, I lash out when people antagonize me, and I’m such a fan of vulnerability in general.”

“Mood,” Virgil said, his brain still screaming what the fuck is happening.

“So I’m not perfect,” Janus said. “And I must admit...I hoped, for a while, that a soulmate would magically erase those problems. It’s what society tells us. I had higher hopes than were healthy. I projected a lot of things onto that soulmate--trust and honesty and a chance to be--more than myself. To be, to use your word, fixed.” Janus laughed a bit. “But then I actually met you. And...no.”

“Rude,” Virgil muttered.

“No, I don’t mean it like that.” Janus leaned forward. “You’re not--you’re a person. You’re edgy and snarky and a little nervous but it’s incredibly adorable, and you make me laugh, and even though you were clearly terrified you came back and gave me a second chance. It’s hard to project anything onto you when you’re actually here, sitting in front of me, and that’s when I actually realized--” Janus shook his head. “You are not my soulmate because you’re supposed to fix me. And I am not your soulmate because I’m supposed to solve your problems. We’re soulmates because we make each other laugh, and because I think your hoodie is cute, and because you didn’t make any comments about my scar. We’re soulmates because we make each other feel better. Not perfect, not ‘fixed,’ just a little bit better. The rest of the work we have to do on our own.”

Virgil stared at him, mouth open.

“So.” Janus swallowed. “I completely understand your reservations, but...it’s getting late, and I think we both need some sleep. So I’d like to request your number?”

Virgil pressed a hand to his mouth and laughed. “That whole dramatic speech was just a ploy to get my number? Shame on you.”

“You caught me,” Janus said. His face softened. “If you’re not ready, that’s okay. I just...it’s hard to let go of all the expectations. But how about we try? How about we be you and me for a while, and see how that goes?”

“But--” Virgil shook his head. “Soulmates--they’re supposed to be your whole life--”

“Supposed to be. As I said, society is a sham.” Janus reached out a hand and laid it on the table, palm up. “I’m not asking for your whole life, and I never will. I’d--I’d just like to be a part of it.”

Virgil tried to catch his breath. His eyes were stinging. He giggled a little, because he couldn’t help it, and because Janus was staring at him with such open hesitation and fuck, he was cute.

He was cute.

He was Janus.

Janus was his soulmate--and Janus was Janus, and that was more important.

Virgil looked at the zero on his wrist, turned it over, and took Janus’ hand.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “That--that sounds great. Actually.”

“Lovely, darling.” Janus smiled, bright and beautiful, and Virgil was dizzy with affection. “In that case, may I have your number and your name?”

“Whoa, two at once? Easy there.” Virgil chuckled and tightened his grip on Janus’ hand. “Um. My name’s Virgil.”

“Virgil,” Janus repeated.

“Yeah.” Janus smiled wider. “It’s lovely to meet you, Virgil.”

Virgil looked back, at the guy he’d been so afraid of, the soulmate he’d hoped he’d never meet. Who wanted him. Who knew who he was and wanted him anyway.

Virgil’d had it wrong and also right, which pretty much added up. Yeah, he’d been wrong about the whole running thing. Janus wanted him. Janus waited, and Janus smiled, and Janus thought he was funny. Janus wanted his number.

Yeah, Virgil thought he’d been fine on his own. But he was so much better than fine with Janus across from him, holding his hand.

He’d been right, too. Soulmates didn’t matter. Not that much. Janus was his soulmate, and who the fuck knew what that meant? Not Virgil. It was just some gift bag dumped randomly on his doorstep, a timer clicking down to zero.It didn’t matter that Janus was his soulmate.

Because Janus was Janus, and Virgil’s skin was on fire where Janus touched it, and suddenly his wild dreams of a roommate and home-cooked meals and dyed hair didn’t seem too far off at all.

It didn’t matter that Janus was his soulmate, because even if he wasn’t, Virgil would stay.

Meant for each other? Maybe. Destined? Apparently. Supposed to complete each other? Yeah, only in the loosest of terms. Virgil was still Virgil and Janus was still Janus, soulmates or no.

And for some reason--for some incredible reason--that just made things better.

It didn’t matter that Janus was his soulmate.

Virgil liked him no matter what.

“Nice to meet you, Virgil,” Janus said again, as if he was repeating it to himself, rolling Virgil’s name around in his mouth. It sounded beautiful in his voice. Janus had a beautiful voice--thick and smooth and deep, like a river Virgil would gladly drown in.

And he glowed bright in the yellow lights of the coffee shop, the world rushing outside, the darkness kept at bay and the world polished and gleaming and on fire.

“Yeah,” Virgil said, finding that he was smiling wider than he ever had. “Yeah, it’s nice to meet you too.”

General taglist (ask to be included or removed!):

@the17thmeatball

@most-likely-fandom

@csi-baker-street-babes

@caffeinated-cryptid

@thefivecalls

@ollyollyoxinfree

@the-gay-is-back

@dramaticsnakes

Taglist from @the-taglist-repository:

@katelynn-a-fan @dwbh888 @royal-stormcloud @intruxiety @brain-deadx0 @the-grounded-raven @just-your-typical-trans-guy @grouptalekindnesssoul @the-hoely-bleach @anvil527up @fanficloverinthesun @somehow-i-got-an-account @starlight-era @potatsanderssides @idont-freaking-know @aceawkwardunicorn @demoniccheese83 @thatgaydemigodnerd @arya-skywalker @rainbowbowtie @lookingforaplacetosleep @a-fandom-trashdump @legendsgates @dragonwithproblems @snowdice @locked-prism @nonasficcollection @enby-phoenix @sign-from-god-complex @hitmewiththatfanart33 @cottonwoolsocks @callboxkat @supernovainthenightsky @evoodo123 @hekking-happy-nonsense

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #janus sanders #anxeit #anxceit #averywrites #soulmate september #tw anxiety #tw cursing #qpr anxceit #soulmate au #human au #coffee shop au #look okay every story hits Different at midnight in a coffee shop #idk what to tell you #tw scars

175 notes · View notes